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Consular Reminiscences. 



BY 

G. HENRY HORSTMANN, 

Late United States Consul at Munich (July, 1869, to December, 1880), and 
United States Consul at Nubembebq (Decembeb, 1880, to April, 1885). 



f 



p 




PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 

1886. 



-% 






Copyright, 1886, by G. Henry Horstmann. 



<1[. ftf<LOT YPLI^anoPRinT^sI^ 



TO THE 
(say, in round numbers) 

50,000,000 
INHABITANTS OF OUR COUNTRY 

WHOSE SERVANT 

I HAD THE HONOR TO BE, 

THESE PAGES 
ARE LOVINGLY DEDICATED. 



co:ntents. 



CHAPTEK I. 

PAGE 

Introduction — Recollections of a magazine article — Anonymity use- 
less — All incidents related, actual occurrences — Connected narra- 
tive not to be expected — What is a consul, at any rate ? — Duties 
of a consul — Bright sides of a consular career — Every business has 
charms — Pay of consuls — Working for others — Poetry in every 
occupation of life — The poor cobbler — The grocer's boy — " From 
Greenland's icy mountains" — The field of the consul gives full 
scope to the imagination — Destination of goods sent from con- 
sulate — Paris kid gloves — Diamonds — Gold and fancy paper — 
Bronze powder — Works of art — Poeta Nascitur — Mr. O'Sweeney, 
** The top av the morning'* — Assisting fellow-citizens in trouble — 
Loss of gold bracelet — Loss of diamond ring — Stolen jewelry 
of a lady : police station — Order for a picture : price not right — 
Lady's photograph : a perfect fright — Trunks that had been sold 
— Threatening to write about imposition in all the newspapers — 
Row with Italian courier — Quarrels about apartments — Cursory 
note from a lady — One lady used a decoy (price of coals) . . 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Authenticating invoices — Consul to know the price of everything — 
Notarial business — Executing the first commission — Reports to 
Department of State — Reports to Treasury Department — Reports 
to appraisers — General reports — At seaport places still more to 
write on — Saluting consul by squadron — Circulars from Depart- 
ment — Mrs. Pardiggle — Like school compositions — Rinderpest, 
and report on the same — The story of two wild Indians . . 24 

CHAPTER III. 

Bamums abroad — Zulu chieftain — Bedouin trapeze artist — Ameri- 
can Hercules — Egyptians with learned frogs — Colonel Sellers — 
Complaints of minister to Spain — Multifarious correspondence — 
Inquiries in regard to Munich — Man who practises animal mag- 
netism — Prices of living in various Gorman cities — Labor, wages, 
and condition of working class — Artificial breeding of fish — To- 
bacco — Wants to be made a member of Statistical Society — Hops 
— Bread — Telegraphs — Railroads — Railroad brakes — Oiling ciir- 
wheels — Fire departments — Sugar-refineries — Nickel-plating — 

V 



Vi CONTENTS, 



Audience of the king : does he speak English — Ladies attending 
court ball — Newspapers in Bavaria — Statistics of mortality — 
Slaughter-houses — Selling lands in United States — To write art 
articles for newspapers — Preserved milk — Categorical questions — 
Fire-extinguishers — Platform scales — Lithographic stones — Quar- 
ries at Soluhofen — Opening for improved coflBns — Drunkenness — 
Where to hire a piano — Where to buy a parasol — Where to get 
milk from ** one cow" .60 

CHAPTER IV. 

Something about fiddles — How many fiddles in the United States — 
Mittenwald — Jacob Stainer — Andreas Hofer and Stainer — Mat- 
thias Klotz — Neuner <fe Hornsteiner, Baader & Co. — Difference in 
build of violins — Origin of the violin — Zithers — Concert at Mit- 
tenwald — " Isar rolling rapidly" 60 

CHAPTER V. 

Descriptions of person on passports — Noses described on passports, 
oblong — Costume of a sculpturing woman — Wanting to make a 
bust of the king — Consul to write to the king — Kaulbach and 
Achenbach, how pronounced — Consuls* titles — Jokes on consul's 
title — Contents of letters, funny — Samples of German-English let- 
ters — Queer titles and headings in German letters — Pasting holy 
pictures in letters — Begging letters — Long letters about nothing 
from Americans — A rounded letter, fish-hooks — The consul a little 
postmaster — Telegrams coming at all times of the night — " Try 
Munich" — Dead letters — Startling letter, " I have to be executed 
here to-morrow" 74 

CHAPTER YI. 

The guillotine — Hanging — Best method of inflicting capital punish- 
ment — Last execution by sword in Munich — Public execution by 
guillotine — History of the guillotine — Plea for other method than 
hanging — Executions should not be public — Can a clergyman vote 
or hold office? — "I was ever of opinion :" subject of a bet — A 
letter of Washington — Two Barons Washington living in Bavaria 
— Washington's letter — James Washington — Our flag : its origin 
— Our flag : when displayed — Our flag has further uses : Fourth 
of July speeches 87 

CHAPTER VII. 

Consul like the American eagle — American eagle : its origin — Our 
arms — Eagle on the coinage — What our eagle looks like — Consular 
arms furnished by the Department — President of Ornithological 
Society — Sign of a poultry dealer — The " Adlerwirth" — State 
arms — Hunting up family arms — Hunting up genealogies — Smith 
family — Hunting up lost trunks — So many lost trunks — Two 
American ladies lose trunks — Railroad director loses trunks — 
Wants to sue the company — Trunks at forwarding agent's — Want- 
ing consul to call on Sunday — Cases where consul must go to par- 



CONTENTS. vii 



ties — Attacking the consul at the opera — Engaging rooms — Meet- 
ing lady with baby and nurse — Travelling companions for ladies 
— §uch requests not«from acquaintances — Consul to bargain for a 
painting — Newspapers received in a torn state — Work on Faust : 
no old fogy — Bill of glassware : where's the punch-bowl? — Consul 
to collect debts — Young Americans not writing home — To hunt up 
a sister — Wanting situations as clerks, etc. — Wanted, an artist to 
show strangers around the galleries — Tramps — Free railroad 
tickets — Tickets to New York, to Milan — Shooting the judge at 
Thulba — Violent sailor — French woman with baby — Parties com- 
ing in the evening to private lodging — Even tramps not the most 
formidable people — Making a living time-table of the consul — 
Armed with a circular letter of introduction — Putting one's 
knowledge of geography to the test — Which is the best route to 
Suez ? — First class from Munich to Verona — When do trains leave 
Munich for Paris ? .99 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Man with a balloon — Guardian and trustee for fatherless children — 
Not much luck in this respect — Chapman and Butler, arrest and 
trial — Lady in prison for debt 112 

CHAPTER IX. 

A sweet subject — Sucking liquorice — Characteristics of the German 
— Essay on liquorice-culture in Bamberg — Bothersome to ask 
questions in Germany — Handshaking of German-Americans — 
Wanting to show off their English — " Hats off in front" — Ameri- 
can manners — American tailor, so called — Man in the office keep- 
ing his hat on — One more case of the above — Professor of art 
school — How to manage an art school — Royal State Library at 
Munich — Lending books and manuscripts — Deaths of Americans 
— Suicides — Student making diagram of his brain — Franklin 
Webster — To look after graves of Americans — Curious affection of 
the mind in sorrow — ** Is that grave as deep as usual ?" — Talking 
politics on leaving the cemetery 126 

CHAPTER X. 

The cemetery at Munich — Making the acquaintance of the dead — 
How the corpses are handled — Ring and bell attachment — Beau- 
tiful monuments — The first monument — A ghost story — Sending 
a corpse home — The right man in the right place — ^^Is Dr. 
Leberfleck more for the kidneys ?" etc 135 

CHAPTER XI. 

Not knowing who people are — The lady and the bum-bailiff — Royal 
bronze foundry ; business there — Information sought on art mat- 
ters — Casts of iEgina marbles — Stained-glass windows — Iron rail- 
ing for church — Measuring picture-frames — Bequest for photo- 
graphs of buildings — Request for photographs of Kaulliaoh's 



Viii CONTENTS. 

PAQE 

drawings — Exact copy of photograph on porcelain — Pictures of 
old masters for sale — Requests for postage-stamps — Our newspa- 
pers instruct the people — " Lick, brothers, lick, oh, lick with care" 
— Franco-German war — Terrified lady and the flag — Letters : is it 
safe to be in Munich ? — Forlorn situation of group of ladies — Treat- 
ment of French prisoners — Return of troops; banquet — Trial of 
two Irish ladies for insulting a corporal 148 

CHAPTER XII. 

Homesickness — Good square breakfast — Consul not allowed to marry 
parties — Lunatic setting his room on fire — Once an Englishman 
always an Englishman — Our common law based on English law — 
Right of expatriation — Few Americans become subjects of other 
countries — Foreigners received as American citizens — Naturalized 
citizens returning to their native country — Our naturalization 
treaties — Bancroft's merits — Treaty with England — Bancroft cen- 
sured by Department of State — The Bavarian protocol — Mild rule 
in practice — Bavaria holds firmly to treaty — Minister must decide 
a man's nationality — Talk of withdrawing from the treaty — Ger- 
mans the most cosmopolitan of people — No chance of getting a 
better treaty — Chief flaw in our treaty — Bavaria made a mess of 
it — A returned Bavarian neither one thing nor the other — Case 
of such a man dying — Naturalized citizens to enjoy the same rights 
as native citizens — Circular from the Legation — Naturalized Ger- 
man having no passport nor citizenship paper not to make ap- 
plication 163 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Caught by a letter-box — Stehhalbe — Suspicion of passing counter- 
feit money — American swindlers — The circus-rider — Telegram, 
** look out for swindler" — Telegram : lady swindler — Doctor of 
medicine-swindler — Anthony Sharp — Warlike tailor — Books with 
begging letters — Insurance companies — Schools and academies; 
references — American dentists — The flute — Boehni and the Boehm 
flute — Requests for music — Munich a musical city — International 
Peace Jubilee — Showing a friend around the city — Which is the 
gem of the collection ? — What kind of grease do they use for car- 
axles in this country? — General Grant in Munich — Circular of 
Department of State — " Put money in thy purse" — Preparations 
made at Munich — Description of personal appearance — Visit to 
court brewery — Letters of introduction — State Department letters 
of introduction — Circular in regard to letters of introduction — 
Very mean people in the world — Sending Confederate notes to rela- 
tives, etc. — *' I haven't brass enough for that" .... 182 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Passion play at Oberammergau — Interviewed as to my opinions 
of the play — Performance at New York prohibited — Origin of the 
play — Loss of originality — Successive alterations and improve- 
ments — Specimen of the old text — Reforms — The performers — Ed- 



CONTENTS, 



IZ 



ward Devrient's book — The representatives of the characters — 
Morality of the Ammergauers — A village brawl (note) — Opinions 
of English and Americans — The acting — Quotations from Devri- 
ent's book — The effect produced upon us — The mind prepared for 
the play — Effect on devout Catholics — The stage — The absence of 
something — Dialect — Lodgings with the thief — The little child 
actress — Why do people say **Christus"? — Meeting Christ in the 
cars — Personal appearance of Maier — Eating curds and whey 
with mustard — An Americanism : " I cannot enthuse" — " He talks 
like an Englishman" 203 

CHAPTER Xy. 

Difference between English and American — Lies mostly in the tone 
of the voice — Voices of American women — **A bad workman 
quarrels with his tools" — School-girls* French — German coming 
into fashion — Clumsy German words — Faults of both languages 
equally balanced — Want of expressive English words — Want of 
genders to our nouns — The German diminutive — Germinant qual- 
ities of German language — Long words — French technical words 
— Use of titles — Full title to be used in Reuss-Schleiz, etc. — Fel- 
low from Arcadia learning four languages — Hospital wanting pay 
for an American — Consul's answer to the letters — Liberality of 
our government and people — Collections in Munich for Chicago 
suffereid — United States pensioners abroad 221 

CHAPTER XYI. 

Rows among young Americans abroad — Good character of Americans 
in Munich — Spree : " You are one jackass" — Row with soldiers : 
pouring beer on them — Strangers aggrieved by decision of courts 
— King Ludwig the Second — Scandals — Eccentric ways and doings 
— King a musical enthusiast — Duties of present kings — Cost of 
keeping a king — Not showing himself to the public — King's strict 
education — Influence of Wagner's operas — The public to keep out 
of the king's way — Trap-door arrangement with dining-table— 
Counsellor reading behind a screen — Mr. Maynard : " will I see 
the king?" — The king in the theatre — Separate performances — 
Row at the OcT^on ; concert — Fire apparatus at theatre — Real rain 
— His veneration of Louis XV. — Copy of Versailles — Coming to 
and leaving Munich at night — The winter garden — Opera singer 
falling into the lake — Fond of riding in his youth — The wild horses 
of Macbeth — In the riding-school — Hunting-lodges in the moun- 
tains — Princely chambers on the mountain pass — Mimic stage — 
Moon out of order — Are all these things true ? — Character of the 
king 231 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Ludwig the First — The maker of modern Munich — Lola Montez — 
Her house in the Barer Strasse — History of Lola — First appear- 
ance in Munich — Title of nobility — Personal appearance — Her 
portrait — Her ambition — The students — Stabbing scene — Order to 



X CONTENTS. 

P1.0B 

close the university— Affairs on the 10th of February— The stu- 
dents ordered to leave Munich — Police attack at the Academy 
— Resolutions of the citizens — Audience of the king — Students 
declare they will not leave the city — Demonstrations against the 
bouse of Lola — Affairs on the 11th of February — Concessions of 
the king — Lola ordered to leave town — Arrival of the king — Lola 
tries to get back to the palace — Abdication of the king — Lola's 
subsequent career and death — King Ludwig after his abdication — 
His jealousy of Maximilian — His free and easy manners — His 
witticisms at a concert 252 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Centennial Fourth of July — Our mode of celebrating Fourth of 
July — The Centennial — Art of decorating by Munich artists — 
Paris Exhibition of ] 867 — Nothing but flags — Flowers — Decora- 
tions at Hotel Detzer — The speeches — Conclusion of the celebration 
— American Artists' Club — Conundrums — Puns and sayings . 267 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Art — Circular from Department of State — Results of the circular — The 
reports published by the Department — Deluge of letters to consuls 
— My report — To take off all duty on works of art — Despatch of 
April 12, 1878 — American goods being slowly introduced — Amer- 
ican toys in Bavaria — Our tools — American versus German ham- 
mers — Characteristics of our productions — Our weakness in at- 
tempts to decorate — Definition of ornament — Ornamentation of the 
hair — Helps to nature — Ornament must express a function — Its 
laws must be studied — Inborn feeling for art in the American — 
Our ships, carriages, etc. — Art forms in common implements — 
What art form in a machine? — Flowers and weeds — The intent to 
ornament and decorate — We do not know what originality means 
— Schools for teaching art — Art must be seriously studied — One 
step our government can take — Take off duty on works of art — 
Facilities for seeing works of art facilitate art — Art must be made 
more popular — Our tariff is for protection — Artists in different 
lines not equally protected — Artists not pecuniarily benefited — 
Americans will not buy foreign landscapes — We cannot have gal- 
leries of old masters — Are musicians and authors protected? — 
Where and when Americans purchase — Importation of foreign art 
works will increase — American artists will sell better — New tariff 
bill of March 3, 1883 — Protests from American artists — Americans 
at Munich Academy — Number of prizes 283 

CHAPTER XX. 

Traveller putting his watch in holy water holder — English notions 
of rank — Bavarian holidays — Ride to Nymphenburg; people re- 
storing themselves — Trinkgeld — German cities celebrated for 
something in the eating or drinking line 312 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER XXI. 

PAOB 

Beer: introductory — Beer-drinking must be begun in infancy — 
American ideas of beer-drinking — How the German drinks — 
American perfecting himself in beer-drinking — No humbug in the 
measure of beer — The initials on the mugs — Origin of beer — His- 
tory of beer — Meaning of the word beer — Approach of spring — 
Bock — Radishes — History of bock — Salvator beer — Breweries in 
Munich — Consumption of beer — Consumption of beer in Munich — 
But little drunkenness — Teetotal ideas in America — Percentage 
of alcohol in Bavarian beer — Process of making beer — Laws in 
regard to brewing — Taxes on beer — Salaries of brewers . . 322 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Character of the Bavarians — Fault-finders — Munich beggars — People 
asking for loans — The old Leipsic woman — Sandy-haired man 
wanting forty florins — American artist slouches — Directory of 
America — " I can prove that I am myself" — Fifty years behind 
the time — Consular speeches — Bribing ...... 345 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Closet skeletons — Politeness of King Maximilian — Artists* balls — 
American keeping his hat on — "Crossing" — Count Rumford — A 
corner in wheat — Health of Munich — Murray's handbook of South 
Germany — An ominous paragraph — Letter of Dr. Frank to Mr. 
Murray — Extracts from Dr. Frank's letter — Death-rate of various 
cities — Death-rate of Munich — Explaining the above — Mortality 
of young children — Causes of the above — The marriage laws — 
Baby-farmers — Making deductions — Munich as healthy as most 
large cities — The typhus — The cholera — The year 1854 in Munich 
— The epidemic of 1873 and 1874 — Cholera in American cities — 
First death from cholera, an American — Death of Kaulbach — 
Fears of the cholera — Former condition of Munich — The soil of 
Munich — The water-supply — Improvements in Munich — Climate 
of Munich — How to dress — Rain — Sundry diseases . . . 355 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Diplomacy — Quarrel between circus man and wife — Circus people's 
business with consul — No permission to perform — Japanese acro- 
bats — Uses of the Odeon — Yankee girl and Richard Wagner — 
" Oh, hell" — Stretching conscience — Boy with talent for art and 
music — The dying man and his obliging friend .... 382 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Our consular system — Voting for Sheneral Shackson — To the victor 
belong the spoils — Foreign opinion of our system — The office 
must bo a necessity — Appointing applicants — Rush of office-seek- 
ers — Anecdote of Hendricks — Public business suflfers through con- 



xii CONTENTS. 



sular changes — Changes abroad still more inconvenient — Reform 
not to go the other extreme — Foreign bureaucracy — Public ser- 
vants to be controlled — Becoming disamericanized — Supervising 
officers for consulates — Complaints against consuls — Investigating 
consulates — Examinations — Young men specially trained — Con- 
suls must speak language of the country — Commerical men to be 
appointed — Ideas of what a consul has to do — The consular corps 
—Salaries — Payments not justly distributed — Furniture, cleaning, 
lighting, and heating — Pay to vice-consuls — Gentleman not satis- 
fied with servant — Lady not satisfied with servant — Clerks — 
Consul should not be allowed to transact business — Is the consul 
satisfied with the Department? — More intimate connection between 
the consul and the Department — Consular reports — Delegation of 
tailors — Fireproof material — Uncertainty of tenure of office — 
Consul often a figure-head — Finding nothing but vice-consuls 
— Sword of Damocles — Conclusion 398 



CONSULAR REMINISCENCES. 



CHAPTEE I. 



Introduction — Recollections of a magazine article — Anonymity useless 
— All incidents related, actual occurrences — Connected narrative not 
to be expected — What is a consul, at any rate ? — Duties of a consul 
— Bright sides of a consular career — Every business has charms 
— Pay of consuls — Working for others — Poetry in every occupation 
of life — The poor cobbler — The grocer's boy — " From Greenland's 
icy mountains" — The field of the consul gives full scope to the imagi- 
nation — Destination of goods sent from consulate — Paris kid gloves 
— Diamonds — Gold and fancy paper — Bronze powder — Works of art 
— Poeta Nascitur — Mr. O'Sweeney, " The top av the morning" — As- 
sisting fellow-citizens in trouble — Loss of gold bracelet — Loss of 
diamond ring — Stolen jewelry of a lady : police station — Order for 
a picture: price not right — Lady's photograph: a perfect fright — 
Trunks that had been sold — Threatening to write about imposition in 
all the newspapers — Row with Italian courier— Quarrels about apart- 
ments — Cursory note from a lady — One lady used a decoy (price of 
coals). 

" Julius Caesar was a consul, Napoleon the first was 
a consul, and so was I." 

That is the way in which I should certainly have 
commenced my book, had not somebody else got ahead 
of me, and used the very words above as introductory 
to an article relating to his consular experiences. 

I remember reading, many years ago, in one of our 
magazines, a very humorous paper written by one who 
had accepted a post as United States consul at some 
little place on the Mediterranean, and I thought the 
way in which he launched into his subject was par- 
ticularly felicitous. The words have not escaped my 
memory. I do not know who the author wan. llo 
commenced by describing his feelings of pride upon 
receiving the weighty papers from the State Depart- 

1 1 



2 A MAGAZINE ARTICLE. 

ment, bearing the ofiScial seal, and which notified him 
of his appointment to , and containing the pre- 
liminary instructions for his guidance. He tells how 
he made his preparations for the journey, what adven- 
tures befell him on the road, and how the reality of 
the situation struck him upon arriving at his post, 
compared with the bright pictures he had drawn of it 
in his imagination. He tried not to show the secret 
pride that was budding at his heart when he saw his 
name in the newspapers among the presidential ap- 
pointments. He tried hard not to look down upon men 
who were not consuls, nor to appear snobbish under the 
weight of the honor that had been heaped upon him. 
He drew up glowing plans of how he was going to 
enlarge the sphere of his usefulness when he got to 
the appointed place and was fully in harness ; how he 
was going to icork ; for he had heard that most consuls 
regarded their office as a mere sinecure, — that they 
pocketed their immense earnings, and did nothing in 
return but go out to dinner-parties. He was conscien- 
tious, however, and was determined that the govern- 
ment which had loaded him with gold and with 
honors should receive a full equivalent therefor in his 
labor, his assiduit}^ and in the manner in which he 
would uphold the glory of the American nation along 
the classic shores of the land to which he had been 
accredited. He was big with good intentions, and no 
new broom that was ever made was to sweep half so 
clean as the reforms that he was going to introduce. 
He had given his bond 'Mn a penal sum of dol- 
lars" that he would *' truly and faithfully discharge the 
duties of his said office according to law, and that he 
would truly and faithfully account for, pay over, and 
deliver up all moneys, goods, effects, books, records, 
papei-s, and other property which should come to his 
hands or to the hands of any person for his use as such 
consul, under any law now or hereafter enacted, and 
that he would truly and faithfully perform all other 
duties now or hereafter lawfully imposed upon him as 
such consul, etc., etc." He had, moreover, taken a 
solemn oath that he would "support, protect, and de- 



ACTUAL OCCURRENCES. 3 

fend the Constitution and government of the United 
States against all enemies, whether domestic or foreign, 
etc. etc.," and that he would be true to his trust — " so 
help him God." He therefore felt that the United 
States had a good right to expect vigilance, industry, 
ability, and integrity on his part. 

The writer then goes on to describe what he really 
found on arriving at his post ; what difficulties he had 
with the local police authorities before he could take 
possession of the office ; how a few limp books, a torn 
flag, a very ragged coat of arms, and a broken stool 
formed the consular property, for the safe delivery of 
which he had given his bond for so and so many thou- 
sand dollars; how he waited for business and none 
came, and how, at last, after lingering at his post for a 
few months, and rotting there, he resigned, — renouncing 
all claims to the emoluments of office, the glory of the 
position, and the honor which his country had thrust 
upon hinl. 

I will not go on further in allusions to that magazine 
article; it has served me for an introduction to my 
own book, and in writing a book, — as in life, — one of 
the great difficulties is to get a fair start. 

But it has also done more than that : it has made 
me calculate that if a man who was consul for only a 
few months could have so much to tell, the material 
that accumulates during sixteen years of office may 
guarantee a more extended venture in the form of a 
narrative, which may, perhaps, not be entirely devoid 
of general interest. 

It would not only be useless, but it would be quite 
contrary to my object to attempt anonymity. Every 
description or allusion to places or scenes would, if 
successful, at once locate the same, and I should feel 
sorry if such were not the case ; besides, the incidents 
related are all actual occurrences. Everything that 
struck me as important, peculiar, curious, or humorous 
I took a note of at the time. On commencing tiieso 
pages many things that have taken phice during my 
consular career had been nearly forgotten by me in 
the course of the years that are so last flying by, but 



4 CONNECTED NARRATIVE NOT EXPECTED. 

now, raking them out from the lumber of the past, they 
seem fresh to me, and they clothe themselves with the 
associations of the times when they occurred. It is 
like rummaging in a garret to which has been con- 
signed all the rubbish that we had no further use for, 
or at least, no immediate use, and which was thrown 
there to get it out of the way, and which has been ac- 
cumulating there for years. In our casual visits to 
fling something more upon the pile we only see what 
is nearest to us in the heterogeneous mass, — what is 
on top and in front covers up what is beneath and be- 
hind ; but when we come to a general ransacking, how 
often do we come across a piece that we had not 
thought of for years, — that we had forgotten the very 
existence of: it may be only a broken and useless piece 
of furniture, a toy, a battered household utensil, and 
3'^et it awakens pleasurable or sad sensations as our 
mind reverts to the time when it was in use, and when, 
perhaps, it was valued, — for it calls up a train of asso- 
ciations of persons and scenes and circumstances which 
passing years had covered with a thick veil like the 
long settling dust that had covered the articles them- 
selves. 

It is well to say in the beginning, that in writing to- 
gether my experiences with the observations that they 
naturally lead to, a very connected narrative cannot 
be expected. The business, indeed, of a consul is so 
varied, that a single day often forces him to take into 
serious consideration subjects that are as remote from 
each other as the poles. Nobody but a consul can 
have an idea of the varied wants of our government in 
all its departments, of the wants of States, cities, cor- 
porations, and individuals at home, of the people in the 
country where he is located, and above all, of tbe wants 
of that free, roving, money-scattering and railroad- 
patronizing crowd — our countrymen abroad. The long 
columns of " wants" in any one of our daily papers are 
insignificant as compared with the endless string of de- 
sires for information, advice, assistance, enlightenment, 
protection, and relief which is tugged in at the consular 
door; every knock brings a new subject for the con- 



DUTIES OF A CONSUL. 6 

sideration of the consular brain. Without attempting 
any connection in the matter of the paragraphs, there- 
fore, let the blank lines between them represent the ac- 
customed three knocks at the door which keep the 
consul perpetually on edge, shouting — " herein !'* * — all 
day long. 

One of the many questions often put to me in various 
forms — sometimes abruptly put, and sometimes politely 
disguised, or flowered over with the ornaments of 
speech, but always implying that the parties really 
" wanted to know, you know" — was, "What is a consul, 
at any rate, and what has he got to do?" 

There is, perhaps, no better place to enlighten the 
minds of such people, and to give a general answer to 
the question, than in this introductory chapter; and, 
for fear I might give it too modestly, I will use the 
words of the Consular Manual, which, in reverting to 
some expressions of Talleyrand on the subject of con- 
suls, says, "Many of the consular duties arise from 
peculiar circumstances, such as the character and habits 
of the nation in which the consul resides, its laws and 
customs, and the nature of its intercourse with the 
United States. In the most restricted sense, they are 
important and multifarious, are quite difl^erent from 
those of other officers employed in foreign affairs, and 
require for their proper performance an amount of 
practical information for which the consul needs a 
special training. Consuls are often so situated as to 
exercise towards their countrymen within their con- 
sular jurisdiction the duties of judges, arbiters, and 
peacemakers; they are the registers of marriages, 
births, and deaths; they act as notaries, and sometimes 
as revenue officers; they watch over and verify the 
sanitary condition of their consulates ; and, through 
their social and official relations, they are able to obtain 
a full and accurate knowledge of the commerce, navi- 
gation, and industry peculiar to the country of their 
residence." 

The duties specially imposed upon consuls, as given 

* Come in ! 
1* 



6 DUTIES OF A CONSUL. 

at length in the Consular Eegulations, are too many, 
and would take up too much space in their enumera- 
tion for the present purpose. Suffice it to say, that in- 
dependent of the technical instructions contained in 
the volume, it tells of hundreds of things that a consul 
ought to do, and of hundreds of other things again that 
he ought not to do. Perhaps in the perusal of these 
pages the reader will get an insight into many of the 
matters which come within the field of a consul's 
labors. 

But if the prescribed and intimated duties of a con- 
sul as set down in the Consular Regulations and the 
numerous circulars that are sent to him by the State 
Department as supplementary instructions are un- 
countable as the stars that twinkle above us, how in- 
finite is the sphere of supposed duties and obligations 
which our countrymen and countrywomen abroad con- 
fidingly surround their "official representative'' with! 
The confidence they place in his unlimited knowledge 
and power and influence is certainly flattering. A man 
never knows how much he really does know until he is 
put upon his mettle, and a considerate public gives us 
plenty of opportunity to show off in this respect. Some 
of the questions and wants of callers at the consulate 
are amusing from their very naivete, or are interesting 
from the strangeness of the subjects they touch on, 
and they can easily be condoned for the sake of their 
variety; but one is often pestered by people who apply 
to a consul for information, only because they are too 
indolent to hunt it up for themselves; many, through 
mere ennui, which no amount of sight-seeing can dis- 
sipate, come to lay their petty grievances before the 
consul because they can thereby pass a half-hour very 
pleasantly — to themselves — in conversation. One very 
ingenuous man was kind enough to tell me that 
wherever he went he hunted up consuls, only to have 
a chance to "chat in a Christian lingo, for he couldn't 
understand a word of these infernal foreigners." 

It is not only our conversational powers that are 
taxed by such people, but they often expect us to act 
for them in many ways, which, to say the least, do 



BRIGHT SIDES OF CONSULAR CAREER, 7 

not come within the scope of legitimate business; 
thay are bold robbers besides, for if one of our favorite 
proverbs is true, — that time is money, — they are actually 
gnawing at the consul's purse. 

But the consular career has its bright sides too, and 
many of them : the recollections of transactions done, 
of business performed, of incidents met with, and of 
persons with whom I have been brought into contact, 
are, most of them, to me very pleasant ones. How 
many occasions are here presented for making interest- 
ing acquaintances, for forming warm friendships, and 
for meeting with curious characters! The variety of 
the duties falling to the province of a consul, the variety 
of the subjects on which he is consulted, and the variety 
of the interests of those whom he meets or corresponds 
with, open up to him new avenues of thought; he 
hears original opinions and gains instructive informa- 
tion. From intelligent travellers who have their eyes 
open to all around them ho hears comparisons made 
between people and things in our country with those of 
others, which, if not always just, have all the charm 
of freshness. From the conversations and explanations 
of persons who have devoted themselves to specialties 
in the various branches of science, literature, and art 
he gets an insight into many things that were perfect 
mysteries to him before. One is led into new channels 
of observation, and in making the desired explorations 
for others in some strange subject, one gets deeply 
interested himself; and in learnihg of so many things 
that are new to us, we see fresh paths opening out to 
us which we have a desire to follow still farther for our 
own sakes. 

Thus there is always a healthy change for the mind, 
and the routine of a consul is not a dull, monotonous 
one like that of many another business course. 

But every business, to him who conscientiously at- 
tends to it, has its charms, and is lull of interest, llow, 
otherwise, could men — educated men — find such absorb- 
ing pleasure in poring over the pages of their counting- 
house books, which, truly, have for them more fascina- 
tion than the most stirrinir romance. The one is the 



8 PAY OF CONSULS. 

real story of their life, their actions, their struggles, 
their progress : recording, day by day and step by step, 
the affairs which make up the sum of their material 
existence, the registers of loss and gain, the accumu- 
lation of practical experience, and the trustworthy nar- 
rative of results which sway and determine the posi- 
tion they are to hold on the real stage of the world ; 
while the other is but the phantasmagoria of lifeless 
figures and passions that we can close out from us as 
easily as we can close the book itself. Not so with 
the leather-bound ledger and day-book, — their figures 
attach themselves to us as parts of our being, and are 
the index of the prosperity on which the happiness of 
ourselves and our families depends. 

Now, although a consul has no chance of making more 
than what his fixed salary* is (with the exception of 
what he gets in the way of notarial fees, which, except 
at very large and important places, form but a trifling 
sum), he nevertheless takes an interest in seeing the 
columns of his fee-book and his invoice-book increasing 
as if they were the records of his own private business ; 
he is sorry when the sums show less than they ought 
to, and he rejoices when the consular business prospers; 
he takes a pride in seeing the fees paid over to Uncle 
Sam at as high a figure as possible. How happy is he 
if he can do substantial good to his government or to 
his countrymen ! What a pleasure does it give him if 
he is able to introduce some article of American manu- 
facture into the country where he is located, or to ex- 
tend the sale of what is already known there, thus 
bringing profit to private individuals, but at the same 
time helping thereby to raise the prosperity of our 
native land ! He is always working for others ; but he 
reaps the thanks of his countr3'men therefor. 

* Previous to the act of Congress of March 1, 1855, there were only a 
few consulates for which a fixed salary was appropriated; all other con- 
suls were allowed to retain all the fees collected by them, so that im- 
portant places like Liverpool, etc., were worth more than the best-paid 
diplomatic posts at present. At those consulates for which no salary la 
appropriated the incumbent is now allowed to retain only twenty-five 
hundred dollars in all for his services : all fees over and above that sum 
must be accouuted for to the government. 



POETRY IN EVERY OCCUPATION OF LIFE, 9 

I once heard somebody make the remark that the 
business of an architect must be a very tantalizing one, 
as he is always planning and building comfortable 
houses for other people to live in. But I don't think 
such is more the case in his than in any other business; 
one couldn't expect him to live in all the houses he 
builds, any more than one could expect a baker to eat 
all the loaves he bakes, or a dentist to enjoy the ex- 
quisite pain of every tooth he pulls ; yet they both take 
pleasure in doing something for others, for the very 
reason that it is business. So with the consul, — he is 
publicly set up to do what he can for the advantage of 
his countrymen at home and abroad, and though he is 
not paid specially for it, he takes an interest in such 
transactions, and cheerfully performs them, because 
they constitute his business. 

And, moreover, the employment of a consul is one 
full of poetry too. 

I am disposed to believe that there is poetry in every 
occupation of life, if one has the poetical feeling wnthin 
oneself, and if one takes the trouble to find it out. In 
the most prosaic situations there are plenty of things 
to interest the speculative mind. 

If a man be only a poor cobbler, working in some 
dingy attic, he could, in imagination, follow up a thread 
of circumstances and picture to himself scenes, all 
directly connected with the common articles which he 
daily handles in working at his craft, which would tend 
to lighten the hours as he sits stooping over his labor. 
The leather, which now has a penetrating smell, per- 
vading the close walls of his shop, and making a heavy, 
pungent air to breathe, was once the glossy hide of 
cattle grazing in peaceful country places. Perhaps in 
his youth — and on Sundays even now — he has strolled 
into the fields and has seen the sparkling dew upon the 
grass; has snifi'ed the fragrance of the country air; has 
seen the herd browsing on the meadows ; and has ad- 
mired the shining cows as they make bright s])Ots of 
color in the landscape. lie has refreshed himself with 
a glass of country milk, — so diiferent from the milk of 
the city, — has tasted butter fresh from the dairy, and 



10 THE POOR COBBLER, 

has enjoyed berries plucked direct from the bushes 
without having on their sides the mushy contusions 
which hundreds of miles of railroad jogging have 
brought to them. He has, perhaps, seen the farmer's 
plump boy or the sunburnt maid driving the cows 
home in the evening, and has seen the sun setting, — 
actually setting on the horizon, and not sneaking away 
behind brick chimneys and high, dusty roofs as he 
generally sees it do, long before his day's work is done. 

Kecalling such scenes to his mind, his imagination 
will pleasantly carry him away from the torn sole he 
is stitching at and trying to make " as good as new 
again." 

He may, perhaps, think of the various operations the 
hides have gone through before they are fit to come 
even to his hands, — of the glaring tan-yard with its 
watery filth, the sloppy currier-sheds with their slip- 
pery floors, and of the horrors of the glue factory ; and 
may have reason to thank God that his lot is better 
than the lot of those whose hard-working lives are 
spent in such putrid places. 

The yellow wax at his side, which is still redolent 
of the sweet flowers of the meadows, — which has the 
fragrant breath of the honeysuckle and the clover in it, 
— brings a bit of cheerful, lusty spring into his dark 
abode, even when the cold sleet of December is patter- 
ing against his dirty window-pane. ^ 

When he threads his needle, or stuffs his mouth full 
of tacks (to be disgorged singlj'-) for hammering into 
the thick soles, cannot his thoughts carry him back to 
the black iron countries, and bring present to his mind 
the digging and delving in the earth's bowels ; the roar- 
ing and leaping of the forge fires ; the heavy ring of the 
sledge-hammer, mashing the glowing metal with irre- 
sistible force, and making the glittering sparks fly out 
like useful fireworks? Can he not picture to himself 
the brawny breasts bared and the muscular arms 
strained to the work of reducing the mighty bars to 
such small bits as he is daily handling? 

Even the hempen thread he uses is made up in busy 
factories, where weak-cheated women force their voices 



THE GROCER'S BOY. H 

into plaintive songs to drown the noise of the whirling 
spindles. 

Then, too, can he not speculate on the various paths 
of life that are trod in the boots and shoes which his 
handiwork has furnished ? One step is light and elas- 
tic, as that of the father hurrying home to the family 
from whom he has been away all day, working for their 
support. The welcome of the children, the quiet smile 
of the wife, the cheery light within, and the delicious 
smell of the preparing supper greet him as he enters. 
Here is another step, light and elastic too, — it is that 
of the young man as he starts out into the world, 
thinking the whole world his, — his own master at last. 
But he must be his own defender now, too, against all 
attacks of that world which he thinks his own, but 
which will not spare him, — it spares none who passes 
through it. 

How many a heavy tread we hear as the weary, the 
forlorn, the oppressed, the neglected, the unfortunate 
pass us in our daily walks! Think of the slow step of 
mourners to the grave of those who stood nearest them ! 
Think of those whose steps are leading them to the 
hospitals, to the poor-house, to the prisons! Think of 
the last heavy step of him who has to ascend the 
scaffold ! 

How often is the common saying heard, " I would 
not like to be in that man's boots for any money!" 
This saying must be brought home to the breast of the 
cobbler with a telling force, for has he not made the 
boots that that unlucky man stands in ? 

I do not say that my poor cobbler can know, or even 
guess, in all cases, the destination of the work which he 
supplies, but has he not play for his imagination in 
picturing to himself such scenes and possibilities ? 

If I were a grocer's boy, allotted to the dingy store- 
room or the cold cellar where the goods are stowed 
away in their original packages, each cask and box and 
bale and bag would suggest to my fancy pictures of 
the various countries which produced their contents. 

In taking up a tea-chest, covered over with those 
funny-looking figures and those extraordinary words 



12 ''FROM GREENLAND'S ICY MOUNTAINS.'' 

or letters which look like scratched-out sums in arith- 
metic, and have no meaning for me, but are perfectly 
intelligible to people whom I am accustomed to con- 
sider so much my inferiors, — in handling that curiously 
soft paper on the inside, which is so like velvet to the 
touch, or like the leaf of a rose, my thoughts instantly 
fly through the very centre of the earth quicker than 
any underground cable could carry them, and I am at 
once in the midst of my antipodes, w^alking along the 
crowded streets, surrounded by shaven heads and pig- 
tails, and jostled by palanquin-bearers and slit-eyed 
fellows carrying their wares on long poles on their 
shoulders. I see the light temples, rising up, story on 
story, with their turned-up roofs with little bells hang- 
ing at the points, and the perfume of joss-stick greets 
my nostrils like a perpetual Fourth of July. 

If I were drawing oif molasses from the cask, or 
weighing out sugar, my mind would revert to the 
sunny plantations of the South, where the work is 
done by steaming negroes in their open shirts and 
check breeches, singing at their labor, and where hos- 
pitality takes its cheeriest and most genial form. 

But the farther countries have still more interest for 
me, for every mile that makes a country more and 
more inaccessible adds more and more to its mythic 
charms ; every sniff of fragrant spices has the perfume 
of poetry in it. I remember, in my boyhood, when 
going to church was made compulsory, the continual 
recurrence of the same service seemed to me a very 
unacceptable form of praise to the author of a creation 
that is so endlessly beautiful and varied, — its mystic 
harmonics never repeating themselves ; its wondrous 
atoms, infinite as the power that grouped them to- 
gether; — and the hymns struck me as differing from 
each other only in the transposition of their words and 
in their metre, like the Gloria Patri that follows them. 
But when collection-day for foreign missions came 
round, and " From Greenland's icy mountains" was 
sung, then my blood was stirred. As I joined in the 
words of that hymn I saw a moving picture with my 
mind's eye, — a picture of all the changing scenes so 



FULL SCOPE TO THE IMAGINATION. 13 

artistically touched on in that beautiful poem. It was 
like the smoothly-sailing scenes of a diorama seen from 
within a darkened room, but illuminated by hidden 
gas-jets which gave it the exaggerated brilliancy of a 
sunny landscape looked at through a pale yellow glass. 
Even the music had something moving in it to my 
mind ; there was a sense of pushing on, like that pro- 
duced by the thudding rumble of a railroad train, — there 
was the exhilarating feeling of getting out of the narrow 
confines of every-day routine, and of flying out into the 
bright, broad world, so enticing to every youth. Even 
now the invigorating perfume of the clove or nutmeg 
always suggests to my mind the line, " What though 
the spicy breezes blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle." 

And so, the grocer's boy of healthy imagination can 
never want for beautiful and varied pictures of far-off 
countries and their strange inhabitants. 

There is not a trade or a business that has not some- 
thing of poetry in it. 

The field of the consul is certainly one that gives full 
scope to the imaginative powers. I have lived in a 
district where there are but few manufactures and 
where there is little or no commerce, and where the 
exports to our country make but a small figure com- 
pared with those of almost every other place ; still, it 
always gave me pleasure when making up my invoices 
in the prescribed form, with the green ribbon and the 
red seal upon them, or in entering them in the books, 
to follow, in my mind, the various articles on their way 
from the old to the new world, — from their origin to 
their final destination. 

Now (I used to think), those boxes marked " A. B. 
C. No. 1," and so forth (for which I had just made out 
the consular certificate), containing " certain goods, 
wares, and merchandise mentioned and described in the 
annexed invoice," are on their way to Bremen or Ham- 
burg or some other port, to be put on board ship there. 
Now they are hoisted up the side and swung down into 
the capacious maw of the steamer, to be disgorged again, 
in time, at one of our own ports, smelling very much 
of a bad digestion and of bilge-water. The while those 

2 



14 GOODS SENT FROM THE CONSULATE. 

boxes, in the company of other boxes and bales and 
bags and casks and crates, are firmly dovetailed into 
each other to keep them from shifting, and as the vessel 
rolls from side to side, or pitches frantically, oh, how- 
deathly sick is the living freight above ! Every motion 
of the spiteful ship seems to slam our stomach into the 
wrong place ; there is a general feeling of having too 
much stomach and of not knowing what to do with it ; 
or, as if we had somebody else's stomach and got very 
much cheated in the bargain. If, at such times, it were 
possible to speculate at all, we would be apt to envy 
the contents of the boxes and bales below us, for they 
keep their places intact through all the motion, — our 
contents seem to be very badly packed. 

At last the ship arrives at its destination. The pas- 
sengers scamper off as quickly as possible and disperse 
to the four quarters of the Union. The freight does 
not begin to be unloaded until the next day. Then 
comes the rushing and running and tramping on the 
decks. What before and during the passage was so 
clean and shining and orderly, is now all dirt and con- 
fusion. Now come up the boxes from the hold ; now 
they are slid down to the wharf; now comes the scram- 
bling, jostling, racketing, and swearing of the carmen, 
the porters, and all those other amphibious animals that 
are of the docks, — docky. Now comes the protective 
arm of the revenue service, and now come those beauti- 
fully complicated, intricate, and mazy operations at the 
custom-house, before the performance of which no goods 
can be put into the hands of their rightful owners, — 
operations which take about as long to be got through 
with, and call for as great a display of ingenuity on one 
side and of patience on the other, and cost about as 
much, as it did to make the articles. 

But once out of the clutches of the custom-house, and 
in the hands of our merchants, they soon are scattered 
in all directions, and in delightful revery I follow with 
my mind's eye the destination of the goods which have 
passed through my hands, or, to speak more correctly, 
of which the various invoices have passed through 
them. 



PARIS KID GLOVES. 15 

The Paris kid gloves, made of the skins of meek Ba- 
varian lambs, poor little shiverers on their bleak moun- 
tain pastures, embellish the windows and deck the 
counters in the Broadway of New York and the Broad- 
ways of other cities. I see them sold by sleek and 
well-brushed salesmen to fair customers in gallant 
street rig, out for the enjoyment of a morning's shop- 
ping. They soon grace delicate hands, and are pressed 
by loving swains, who anxiously wait for the returning 
pressure of the soft mass within, which is the electric 
reply to their unuttered aspirations. I see them softly 
shining in connection with costly robes sweeping the 
carpets at brilliant balls ; at operas and concerts, and 
in gayly-lighted parlors. 1 see them in the company 
of pets of bonnets and stunning costumes parading 
through our crowded thoroughfares, or whirling along 
in high-wheeled vehicles in our parks. I see them 
at weddings and at christenings and at funerals, — at 
churches and at theatres, now holding the golden- 
clasped prayer-book, now swaying the light fan, — 
and every scene they present to me is so thoroughly 
American, so characteristic of our land, that a strong 
undercurrent of undefined longing mixes itself with my 
revery ; — and these are the same gloves which I have 
wa'tched in the process of manufacture in glaring back 
rooms in the quiet by-streets of Munich. 

The diamonds (which at one time were sent in large 
quantities from my district), I used to think, I could see 
glistening throughout the length and breadth of our 
land. No true American is complete without them 
nowadaj's. A man can't transact his daily business if 
they are not sparkling in his snowy shirt front; and 
as for the ladies, — we all know they use them by the 
bushel. 

What becomes of all the gold and fancy paper that 
is made in and around Munich ? It is used by the con- 
fectioner and the bookbinder; it goes to make pill- 
boxes, and it forms the covering of the corks of millions 
of bottles of medicine (of which our people are so fond), 
deftly tied on by spruce dispensers in our j)alatial apoth- 
ecary-shops. Nowhere else in the world arc these 



16 WORKS OF ART. 

latter so rich in colored marble and so blazing with 
gold as with us, — nowhere else are they so well patron- 
ized. 

The bronze powder and the gold leaf of all shades 
and tints lend their effulgence to the decorations of 
many a gaudy ice-cream and oyster saloon, and my 
mouth waters when I think of them; blessed memories 
of "fried, stewed, broiled, roasted, and on the shell," 
and fragrant ghosts of cocktails, cobblers, smashes, and 
kindred spirits, haunt me pleasantly. 

And thus I picture to myself the ultimate destina- 
tion and uses of each article that is exported from my 
district. 

But the most prominent of the products of Munich 
sent to the United States are works of art, — paintings 
and statues, — and here a flowery field for speculation 
opens, boundless as the great expanse of nature itself, 
from which all true art springs- It has been my privi- 
lege to see most of these art works in all stages of their 
creation, from the first dashy sketch in colors or in clay 
to the last stroke of the brush, the last cut of the chisel. 

It is only by constantly associating with artists ; by 
being an intimate of their studios; by accompanying 
them on their summer study tours ; by being let into 
the secret chambers of their minds, when their ideas 
are starting fresh and working themselves out to the 
surface ; by sharing with them their many trials and 
difficulties in bringing into a visible, tangible form the 
conceptions within their brains, and by witnessing their 
triumph when success at last crowns their efforts, and 
their still greater triumph when their production is 
sold, and the money jingles in their pocket, that one 
can appreciate how much is really on the canvas, — 
how much lurks in the heart of the gleaming marble. 
Following these art works from the studios to the exhi- 
bition-rooms of the picture-dealer or the art-unions, I 
followed them still farther (and with feelings of satis- 
faction), when they took their way across the ocean, 
there at last to find their home and their resting-place. 

Munich is essentially an art city. The Munich 
school of painting is as well known with us as it is in 



WORKS OF ART, 17 

Europe. How many of our most prominent painters 
of the present day have been educated in the city of 
the " little monk/' which extends its hand and offers 
its treasures with the same cordiality to the stranger 
as to its native Bavarians ! Even those who have not 
studied there have felt the influence of its teachings, 
for though unacknowledged by many, it is nevertheless 
true that the revival of art in all its branches in Munich, 
since the beginning of the reign of King Louis the 
First, has spread its waves through all the civilized 
countries of the world. 

It is hard to write about Munich without dabbling in 
art criticism : I believe no one escapes it ; but this ever- 
lasting writing on art is the shoal on which many, 
otherwise worthy persons, have stranded. The Munich 
air is so impregnated with art matter, — art stares at one 
from every street: the newspapers discuss art, — and 
conversation so turns on art, that the new-comer soon 
drifts into the current, no matter in what class of 
society he is thrown. He gets the infection, and ho 
becomes an art-critic. It's as easy to catch as the 
fever. But he doesn't keep what he knows to himself: 
he begins to write about it. It requires one to become 
acclimatized in such an art city before one is capable of 
enjoying the good that one sees without hampering the 
senses with the stuffy wraps of comparison and criticism. 
I will promise in this book — the recital of events during 
my prolonged stay in Munich — to do what no one has 
succeeded in doing before me, — not to write about art. 
Perhaps I may have my good reasons for it. 

I have known several people who came over to Europe 
with the boast, and perhaps with the inward convic- 
tion, that they were going to study up art — in three 
months (for the purpose of publication). I know of 
one who was going to spend six weeks in Italy to thor- 
oughly acquaint himself with the spirit of Italian art 
(for a similar sinister purpose). I envy the self-satis- 
faction of such people. I knew of one young man (ho 
was not an American, however) who was studying 
civil engineering. He appeared to have a good head for 
mathematics ; it was well filled with logarithms and 
^ 2* 



18 MV FIRST CLIENT. 

mechanical powers and extracts of square roots and so 
forth, but it seemed he got tired of his knowledge. One 
day he astonished his friends by saying that he had 
given that up, — that he was not going to be an engineer 
after all, — that he was going to be something else. 

" What else?" said we. 

" Why, I am going to be a poet." 

I am afraid that young man had never heard of 
Poeta Nascitur, 

But art has upset me already, and I have wandered 
off from my subject ; I must get back to the consu- 
late. But here comes a knock at the door, and I shout 
" herein !" 

" The top av the ntorning to you, sor, and how do ye 
find yerself to-day, sor ?" 

My very first client an Irishman, as true as you live, 
— and in trouble. But he did not come in person : he 
introduced himself by letter. Mr. O'Sweeney* gave 
vent to his feelings in six closely- written pages of 
quarto letter paper. He had been egregiously swindled 
by a hotel-keeper in one of the mountainous districts of 
Bavaria ; the man had done him, according to his com- 
putation, out of one hundred and sixty florins, which he 
had had to pay (there being no consul in the neighbor- 
hood), but he now took occasion to state his case to his 
"natural representative" (he had become naturalized 
for that purpose) and expected him to set him to rights. 
Mr. O'Sweeney had bargained with the landlord for 
the price, and the quantity and quality of everj^thing he 
w^as to get, and yet when after some two months' stay 
his bill \vas presented, there were items on it which 
set Mr. O'Sweeney's blood boiling, and caused him, no 
doubt, to make use of some very classic expressions 
which, unfortunately, the landlord did not understand. 
It appeared from the letter in question, after the some- 
what confused statement had been disentangled, that a 
French bonne who had been engaged to impart the ele- 



* It is almost superfluous to notify the intelligent reader that all names 
here given, except those of well-known public persons, are fictitioua 



ASSISTING FELLOW-CITIZENS IN TROUBLE. 19 

ments of Parisian manners to the O'Svveeney children, 
and who had been discharged a weel^ before, had in- 
dulged in surreptitious lunches, potations, and even 
drives for her health at Mr. O'Sweeney's expense, and 
thus the bill had acquired its unexpected dimensions. 

This being the first case, outside of legitimate com- 
mercial business, in which I was called upon to assist a 
fellow-citizen in trouble, I give it its place here in the 
beginning, as its importance demands. Indeed, it forms 
the key-note of a long strain of similar requests for in- 
tercession, which are mostly put to the consul in the 
form of a demand, as if he had been appointed solely 
for the purpose of attending to the little personal squab- 
bles of his countrymen. A new broom sweeps clean, 
but it often happens that a new broom is still green. I 
must say, that at the outset of my career I felt it my 
bounden duty to take up each such quarrel as if it were 
my own ; to make it, so to speak, the pet lamb of my 
cares ; but later on, when I had got seasoned through 
experience, it began to occur to me that perhaps there 
were other duties that were equally, if not even more, 
important. But the people in trouble were always 
convinced that it was the primary business of a consul 
to attend to them, and, above all, to take their view of 
the matter in hand, to listen only to their account of it, 
and to see them snugly through. I regret having to 
state that almost in nine cases out of ten it was the 
opposing party who appeared to me to be in the right, 
for the difficulties generally arose from the arrange- 
ment (in cases of tenant versus landlord) being made in 
German, imperfectly spoken, and only half understood 
by the American and without witnesses to the trans- 
action, or from that haunting horror many people have 
that they are always being swindled. 

I may as well, in referring to these little troubles, 
put them all together in one bundle and bo done with 
them, as I heartily wished to be at the time they oc- 
curred. 

A few cases out of many will servo to show their 
general character. 

A gentleman came in one day accompanied by the 



20 LOSS OF GOLD BRACELET. 

portier and the omnibus conductor of Hotel R . He 

had had his trunks sent on from Italy to the custom- 
house at Munich, and had sent the omnibus conductor 
to the latter place with the keys to have the trunks 
examined and passed, and to bring them to the hotel. 
When they were brought up to his rooms, he made the 
discovery that a gold bracelet had been taken out of 
its case and was gone. He recollected quite well, he 
said, that his niece had packed the bracelet in the trunk 
at Turin, for she had stated to him that she was cer- 
tain she had done so. In the course of further con- 
versation, when I questioned him more closely, he said 
it might possibly have been Florence where the trunks 
were last packed, but at any rate, whether it was at 
Turin or Florence or any other rotten old city, the 
thing was gone, and he was determined to make the 
hotel people at Munich responsible for the loss. I of 
course questioned the portier and the omnibus con- 
ductor, but they could only give me assurances that 
they were both honest men, and they indignantly denied 
knowing anything about the bracelet. 

Just about that time there had been a number of 
robberies on the road between Verona and Innsbruck, 
and travellers and the newspapers asserted that they 
had been committed by Italian railroad officials. I took 
occasion to mention this to the gentleman, and said 
that suspicion pointed as easily in that direction as 
against the omnibus conductor, if the bracelet had 
really been stolen ; for I had a lurking notion that 
perhaps it had been left behind or lost in Italy, or that 
it would still be found in some corner of some of the 
trunks (why should a person take a single bracelet 
only, when there were lots of other jewelry lying be- 
side it?). 

That unfortunate if damaged my reputation as a 
defender of the right. The gentleman had come to 
me fully prepared to see me pitch into the omnibus 
conductor and the portier in a manner that would 
wring confession from them. He was less than half 
satisfied with the result, for he said as he went away, 
that " at any rate" he '' would stay at Munich for three 



LOSS OF DIAMOND RING. 21 

months and would pay a thousand dollars to have 
satisfaction, if he were convinced that such stealing was 
an institution of the country." 

Another gentleman once came who had lost a dia- 
mond ring at one of the hotels some weeks before. It 
was diligently searched for, of course, but not found, 
and the gentleman had to leave Munich minus his ring. 
Upon his return to Munich some weeks later, and put- 
ting up at the same hotel, he called the landlord to 
account for the want of honesty on the part of his em- 
ployes, when the landlord smilingly told him the ring 
bad at last been found, and handed it to him. The 
gentleman put it in his pocket without examining it, 
but afterwards discovered that it was not his ring, but 
one something like it, only of much less value. 

Both the gentleman himself, and his friend who ac- 
companied him to the consulate, were very much ex- 
cited. They suspected the hotel-keeper of dishonest 
practices. I knew the latter personally, and could give 
him the very best character, but that did not satisfy 
them. If I couldn't help them to get the right ring 
back, they said, they would employ a detective to ferret 
out the matter; which course I advised them to take if 
they thought proper. They were willing to give a hun- 
dred florins for the discovery of the ring. 

Their grievance rested on the moral certainty that 
the ring was lost at the hotel, and could have been 
lost nowhere else. 

The circumstance of some one else losing a similar 
ring at about the same time, and the landlord sup- 
posing it to belong to the gentleman in question, had 
to their minds a very suspicious appearance. In the 
course of further conversation it came out that the 
gentleman was not in the habit of wearing the ring 
on his finger, but of carrying it in his porte-monnaie, 
so it seemed quite possible to me that it might have 
dropped out unobserved at any place : on the street, 
at a railway station in the hurry of getting tickets, 
or at night. We all know, from the few times wo 
regain anything that we thought lost, how absurdly 
far from the conjectured spot the missing article is 



22 SOME EXPERIENCES. 

always found. If such were not the case we would 
look in the right place at once. 

I was once dragged to the police-office by a lady 
to make a statement for her of some jewelry that 
had been stolen from her at her lodgings, when, 
some weeks afterwards, she flippantly told me, with- 
out much appearance of mortification, that she had 
found the things all right in one of her bureau-drawers ; 
and it seemed so very queer to her that she hadn't 
found them at first, for she had tumbled her things 
all through, she said, to look for them. I suppose 
she had tumbled her things all through several times 
before, — at the time of losing sight of her jewelry. 
So much for order. 

A lady had bespoken a picture of a well-known 
artist in Munich, and when it was sent to her with 
the bill, there was a difficulty about the price, which 
was not the one stipulated upon. The lady wanted 
me to go straight to the painter and ask him what 
he meant, and to make him come down to her terms, 
and to give him a piece of her mind. As she did 
not state how big a piece she was willing thus to 
dispose of by proxy, I, of course, couldn't go. 

Another lady had had her photograph taken, and 
wasn't satisfied with it, — it looked like a fright, — and 
thought she had been cheated, and wrote to me pretty 
much in the same style, asking me to go to the 
photographer and to see about it. They seem to 
think the consul is fond of running on errands. 

Another lady was in great distress about some trunks 
she had left at Munich on storage, and when she wanted 
them, heard to her amazement that they had been sold 
in default of payment of storage. Of course she wrote 
to me, — a voluminous letter, — anathematizing the com- 
mission man in such terms as only the female mind is 
capable of framing, and threatened that if she did not 
receive justice she would write about the swindling of 

that man K in every newspaper and magazine in 

the United States (they always threaten to do that, 
these gentle creatures). 

When I had investigated the case, it was found that 



ROW WITH ITALIAN COURIER, 23 

the lady had left her trunks with the party in question 
for several years; that it had been stipulated that she 
was to pay for the storage at the end of each six 
months ; that, in the mean time, she had never written 
to the party nor let him know of her whereabouts, 
and that the commission man, after having advertised 
several times for the owner, had, according to Bava- 
rian law, and with the sanction of the chamber of com- 
merce, sold the trunks and their contents at public auc- 
tion. The law may be a hard one, but I found there 
was really nothing to be done in the matter, and it was 
my painful duty to write the state of the case to the 
lady. This led to an extended correspondence, and I 
was in receipt of a flow of closely-written letters which 
were at least very edifying, as they let me into the 
mysteries of the logic of the female mind. She princi- 
pally made much ado about a certain invaluable family 
portrait that was in one of the trunks, and said the man 
had certainly no right to sell that. No such article was 
on the inventory of effects, which the merchant showed 
me, and which I looked carefully through. 

In a subsequent letter the lady thought it just possi- 
ble that the lamented portrait might be in one of her 
other trunks which she had left at Naples. 

Another party, a couple of gentlemen, had a row 
with their Italian courier, whom they "rather sus- 
pected" of cheating them (unsophisticated travellers), 
and tugged him to the consulate to make him own up. 
As I couldn't get anything more out of the courier 
^than they could, although he had evidently got a good 
deal out of them, I advised them to tug him still a 
little farther to my colleague the Italian consul's and 
let him make an affidavit there, for the fellow said he 
was ready to do so at that office, but that it was a 
one sided affair to take him to a "foreign tribunal that 
could have no sympathy with his doings." 

I might go on with other recitals of the like kind, 
but fear they can have but little general interest here, 
however well adapted they might be to furnish maga- 
zine articles, as my lady friend who had lost or mislaid 
her ancestor seemed to think. 



24 CURSORY NOTE FROM A LADY. 

The most frequent causes of quarrels were misunder- 
standings between occupants of furnished rooms and 
the parties who let them. The former were generally 
ladies, unprotected, and many were the altercations I 
was called upon to witness, and which, it was supposed, 
one majestic wave of the consular arm, one frown of 
the consular brow, would settle to the advantage of my 
fair countrywomen. A couple of times I was sum- 
moned, late in the evening, to come immediately, as if 
I were a doctor. One party, who considered that I 
had not done her sufficient justice on the occasion of 
such a nocturnal visit, wrote me, afterwards, a very 
short note ; so short, indeed, that it was directed with 
my name without even a Mr. before or an Esq. behind, 
— it was a very cursory note. 

One lady used a decoy. She entreated me to call 
that evening or very early the next morning. She 
wrote, *' I am greatly in need of advice in several re- 
spects, and you will do me much kindness by calling as 
early as you may find it convenient. I am in urgent 
necessity, and will you favor me with a reply as to 
whether you can call, and when? I cannot well talk 
with you in your office, and therefore beg you to call 
and see me." I really thought this time (the writer 
being an elderly lady) that it was an affair of impor- 
tance, and went there, and found it was a matter of dis- 
pute between her and her landlord as to the price of 
the coals furnished. 



CHAPTEE II. 



Authenticating invoices — Consul to know the price of everything — No- 
tarial business — Executing the first commission — Reports to Depart- 
ment of State — Reports to Treasury Department — Reports to ap- 
praisers — General reports — At seaport places still more to write on — 
Saluting consul by squadron — Circulars from Department — Mrs. Par- 
diggle — Like school compositions — Rinderpest, and report on the same 
— The story of two wild Indians. 

In Christian countries the principal business of a 
consul, except at some seaport places, is the authenti- 



AUTHENTICATING INVOICES. 25 

cation of invoices. From the nature of our tariff 
system, the safeguards placed by the government to 
protect itself against fraud are very complicated, and 
they begin at the place where the foreign goods origi- 
nate, — where they are manufactured or sold. The ex- 
porter of goods destined for our country must, at or 
before the time of shipment, appear in person at the 
consulate, armed with the bills in triplicate (or, if the 
goods are sent in bond, in quadruplicate), and must 
there make declaration in writing on an equal number 
of printed forms that he is the manufacturer or seller; 
that the prices given are the true prices, etc. ; that no 
discounts, bounties, or drawbacks are contained in the 
invoice except such as have been actually allowed ; that 
no different invoice of the goods has been or will be 
furnished to any one; that entry of the goods is to be 
made at the port of the United States designated by 
him ; that the boxes or other coverings are marked so 
and so, and that they contain such and such articles, 
etc. The consul then has to certify that the invoice 
was produced to bim by the subscriber of it; that he 
believes that person to be the person he represents 
himself to be ; that he believes him to be a credible 
person, and that he believes all the statements made 
by him to be true, etc. 

Our business men are familiar with these things, and 
for others it would only be tiresome to go into a further 
consideration of the manner of using the consular red 
tape. 

The consul is supposed to know the cost of manufac- 
ture, the market price, and the selling price of every 
article that leaves his district, from a child's rattle to a 
locomotive, — from a pair of gloves to a live elephant. 
He is thus enabled to detect any misstatements on the 
part of the exporter, and to report the same to his 
government. The performance relating to the authen- 
tication of invoices is the one from which most of the 
i'ees are derived. The consular service is self support- 
ing; it even pays in annually a handsome little sum to 
the treasury over and above the amounts paid lor sala- 
ries and for the contingent expenses of the consulates. 
B 3 



26 EXECUTING THE FIRST COMMISSION. 

But in addition to the functions of a consul as toward 
his government, he is allowed to exercise those of a 
notary public at home. He is allowed to administer 
oaths to his countrymen abroad, to take acknowledg- 
ments to powers of attorney, deeds, assignments, etc.; 
to verify the signatures of private persons and of the 
public officers of the place he is in, and he is often 
asked to make out instruments of writing that a for- 
eign notary would not be able to do. He has often to 
make translations of various documents from one lan- 
guage into another. Sometimes he is appointed by the 
courts in our country to execute a commission, — that 
is, to take the deposition of witnesses who are called 
in suits pending at home, but who may be residing or 
temporarily sojourning abroad. For all such services 
the consul is paid by the respective parties, and such 
fees are not official fees to be accounted for to the 
government. In large places, and at cities where there 
is an American colony, these perquisites may amount 
to a considerable sum ; but at most consulates they are 
very trifling, and scarcely to be taken into considera- 
tion. 

The first commission I had to execute was on behalf 
of a party to a disputed will case. A gentleman of the 

State of , who had amassed a considerable amount of 

property there, died at a little town in the south of Ba- 
varia. It appeared that some years before he had made a 
will leaving a certain part of his property to his wife 
(there were no children) and the rest of it to his nearest 
blood relations. There had been some slight estrange- 
ment between himself and his wife, which had induced 
him not to make her his sole heiress. His health failing 
him, he was advised to go to Europe, and there, wishing 
for quiet and mountain air, he decided on going to that 
little town in Bavaria nearly bordering on Tyrol, where 
he could have both. He was quite infirm when he 
reached the place, and he never left it alive. But he 
had written to his wife to cross the ocean and join him 
there, which she did, but only to find her husband on 
the verge of the grave. He had repented making the 



EXECUTINO THE FIRST COMMISSION. 27 

will which gave part of his estate to his brothers and 
sisters, and now wished to leave everything to his 
wife. 

On a lovely summer Sunday morning, when the vil- 
lage bells were tolling^ a notary was called in and two 
witnesses. The dying man expressed his wishes to the 
notary. The notary, not taking into consideration the 
fact that his client was an American citizen, and that 
his will should be made according to our laws, said 
there was a technical difficulty according to the laws 
of that part of Bavaria, in making a will debarring 
the blood relations entirely from a certain part of the 
property, and, as there was no time to be lost, the in- 
strument was hurriedly drawn up in the form of a 
mutual marriage and inheritance contract, by the terms 
of which either the husband or the wife dying first left 
all his or her property to the survivor. The instru- 
ment was read to the dying man, who nodded his as- 
sent to it, thereby showing that he understood it. 
When it came to be signed by him the pen was placed 
in his hand, and he tried to form the first part of 
the letter F of his name, but the notary seeing'he was 
too weak to write, told him that if he made three 
crosses it would be sufficient. He managed to make 
the three crosses, and scarcely was the paper signed by 
his wife and the notary and the witnesses, when ho 
sank back and expired. 

This will was disputed by the opposing parties at 
home on the ground that the instrument purporting to 
be a will was not really a will in the strict sense of our 
law, and that it was not written nor signed by the 
testator, nor was it shown that it was written at his 
request. The stroke which was made for the first 
cross was run through the letter F, which had been 
feebly commenced, and it looked as if the dying man 
had begun writing his name and had then crossed it out 
again. 

A lawyer at Munich and myself were appointed by 

the Supreme Court of to examine the notary and 

the witnesses who were present at the executing of 
the instrument. There were a certain number of ques- 



28 EXECUTING TEE FIRST COMMISSION. 

tions, some thirty or forty, I think, to be put separately 
to each witness on the part of the defendant, and an 
equal number of cross-interrogatories proposed on the 
part of the plaintiffs. 

It was a bright winter day when my companion and 
I started on our journey to the picturesque little moun- 
tain town on the southern border. The last ten miles 
or so had to be made in the stage-coach; we were 
drawing nearer and nearer to the great range of moun- 
tains that form the upper spurof the Alps. The jagged 
peaks of the Madeler Gabel shot up proudly into the 
clear sky, its eternal snows covered with a fresh mantle 
which reached to its foot. As the sun went down the 
sky took a rosy hue of indescribable softness, and as it 
began to fade and settle into a purple gray, the re- 
fracted rays of the sun, which had long left the valley 
in a sombre shadow, now caught the icy peaks, and the 
whole mountain range seemed to be of red-hot metal, 
or as if it were transparent, and were illuminated with 
an intense light from behind. This was the famous 
Alpen-Gliihen, — the Alpine glow, — which only takes 
place under a combination of the most favorable cir- 
cumstances. 

The next morning we sought out the witnesses and 
arranged with them for their examination. Each one 
was sworn by us and the questions put to them. Of 
course, it was necessary to make a translation of the 
questions into German beforehand, and the answers 
had, subsequentl}^, to be translated into English. I put 
the questions sharply to the witnesses, and I watched 
them eagerly and meaningl}^ as they gave their answers, 
which a scribe put to paper. I, all at once, felt myself 
quite a little lawyer, and was almost disposed to badger 
the witnesses when the cross-interrogatories were put 
to them. A sort of forensic inquisitiveness seemed to 
take hold of me. I fully appreciated the importance of 
my position. It seemed to me as if with one step I 
had entered the mystic circle of judicial power, and I 
secretly resolved, upon my return to the city, to lay in 
a stock of the largest-sized full calf volumes, that my 
office might outwardly accord with the dignity I felt 



REPORTS TO DEPARTMENT OF STATE. 29 

inwardly, and might bear witness (for the benefit of 
the public) to the amount of knowledge which a consul 
must possess. Thus, gentle reader, you are introduced 
to a phase of the consular duties. 

It somewhat took the starch out of my self-felt im- 
portance to learn later that *' any respectable person," 
even if he be not a consul, may be called upon to exe- 
cute a commission. 

In the present instance, the evidence elicited from 
the witnesses of the dying man's intention to leave 
everything he possessed to his wife was so clear, that 
there could be no hope for the opposing party. 

I may mention that my predecessor in office had, 
a year or so before, executed a similar commission in 
taking the testimony of the witnesses, but owing to 
some technical irregularities in it, it was resolved by 
the court to have the witnesses examined a second 
time. 

The widow eventually gained her suit. 

The lawyer and the consul from the capital were 
made much of by the inhabitants of the little town 
during the three days we were there. Through the 
notary we were introduced to all the notabilities of the 
place, the Mayor, and the Chief Judge and the Doctor 
and the Eoyal Head Forester, and one evening we as- 
sisted at a grand celebration in honor of the conclusion 
of peace between France and Germany, where music 
and songs and patriotic speeches flowed almost as co- 
piously as the streams of beer that accompanied them. 

Conscientious consuls can't keep their hands in their 
pockets nor devote their time to sitting on a store 
counter and whittling, — even if a smooth, soft, mellow 
piece of wood like our pine were to be had abroad, — 
"the which it isn't," as Mrs. Gamp would say. 

"As often as each official has anything of importance 
to communicate, but in no case less frequently than 
once a month" (say the Eegulations), he is to make a 
report to the Department of State on all subjects which 
may bo calculated to advance the commercial and in- 
dustrial interests of the United States. The principal 

3-^ 



30 REPORTS TO DEPARTMENT OF STATE. 

end to be obtained thereby is the introduction of 
American trade and its enlargement in his consular 
district. 

He is from time to time to advise the Department of 
the demand for different kinds of products and man- 
ufactured articles of our country abroad, and how the 
demand may be increased by legislative, executive ac- 
tion, or commercial enterprise. 

He is to transmit quarterly reports giving information 
on the following points : 

*^ 1st. The usual terms on which merchandise is 
bought and sold, whether on credit or for cash. The 
usual discounts allowed, either from custom or in con- 
sideration of cash payment, or from .other cause ; 
whether such discounts are uniform, and, if not, whether 
they vary in the same, or only in different descriptions 
of merchandise ; and whether such discounts, or any 
of them, are regarded as a bonus or gratuity to the 
buyer for his benefit; whether he purchases for him- 
self or ships merchandise to order and for the account 
of others. 2d. The bounties allowed on articles ex- 
ported, and for what reasons and under what circum- 
stances ; whether they are the same on exports by 
national or foreign vessels ; if not, the difference ; the 
rates of such bounties and how estimated, whether on 
weight, measure, gauge, price, or value. 3d. The cus- 
tomary charge of commissions for purchasing and ship- 
ping goods of different descriptions ; the usual broker- 
age on the purchase or sale of merchandise ; whether 
it is paid by the buyer or seller, or by both. 4th. The 
usual and customary expenses in detail attending the 
purchase and shipment of merchandise, including com- 
missions, brokerage, export duty, dock, trade, or city 
dues, lighterage, porterage, labor, cost of packages, 
covering or embaling, cooperage, gauging, weighing, 
wharfage, and local imposts or taxes of any kind ; 
which of the foregoing, or other items, are usually in- 
cluded in the price of the article or become a separate 
charge to be paid by the shipper or purchaser." 

Consuls are to report *' freely and frequently" useful 
and interesting information relating to agriculture, 



REPORTS TO TREASURY DEPARTMENT. 31 

manufactures, labor, wages, population, and public 
works, to scientific discoveries, to progress in the use- 
ful arts, and to general statistics. They are to report 
carefully all events occurring within their several 
districts which affect favorably or otherwise the com- 
merce and navigation of the United States; the estab- 
lishment of new branches of industry, and the increase 
or decline of those before established. 

Consuls are to transmit " as soon as published state- 
ments of all changes in the commercial sj'Stems of the 
governments to which they are accredited ; copies 
(translations of course) of all commercial treaties, 
regulations, light-house notices, revenue laws, acts, and 
regulations respecting warehouses, tonnage-duties and 
port-dues ; all tariffs and modifications thereof, and all 
enactments, decrees, royal orders, or proclamations 
which in any manner affect the commercial, agricultural, 
mining, or other important interests of the United 
StatesV' 

They are to report specially on all articles of import 
and export; the countries they come from and the 
countries that receive them ; the increase or decrease 
of the same, — from what causes ; the market prices of 
staples of export, average rates of freight, what articles 
are prohibited from importation, and why. They are 
to report the differences in duties on articles imported 
in foreign or national vessels ; all port, warehouse, and 
sanitary regulations, and those relating to entry and 
clearance. They are to report on the employment of 
capital of United States citizens in their district, in 
whatever pursuit employed ; on the consumption of our 
products, and the amount of the same imported in 
American vessels. 

Then they are to report to the Secretary of the 
Treasur}'^ the prices current of all articles exported 
from their district to the United States ; the rates of 
exchange between the places at which they reside and 
London, Paris, Amsterdam, and Hamburg, and also the 
principal cities of the United Staters. 

They are also to re])ort to the appraisers at our 
principal ports the prices current, the merchants' and 



32 CIRCULARS FROM DEPARTMENT. 

manufacturers' prices, " and all other useful informa- 
tion." 

Besides, they are expected to give general reports on 
the finances of the country they are in, its expenditures, 
revenues, taxes, etc., — on emigration, on the social, 
moral, and pecuniary condition of the people, — on health, 
on mortality, on the climate, on the weather, on the 
humidity of the atmosphere, and on various other 
things too tedious to mention. 

Of course, at seaport places, there are still more things 
that have to be reported upon ; for there are the ships, 
and their captains, and their crews, and their cargoes 
to write about, — and where they came from, and how 
long they stayed, and what they wanted there, and where 
they went to, and how they behaved themselves while 
there, and whether they were expected to come soon 
again. 

To be sure, a seaport consul sometimes has a moral 
compensation for the above salty work in the con- 
sciousness that if a United States squadron enter his 
harbor he is entitled to a salute of seven guns, fired 
either while he is on board, or while he is being con- 
veyed from the vessel to the shore, in which case he is 
to stand and face the vessel and raise his hat. All this 
is very flattering to the consular heart. Being an in- 
land consul, I did not have the honor of such a thun- 
dering reception, and as none of our war vessels came 
up the Isar while I was there, I did not get a sight of 
any part of our magnificent navy. 

In addition to all these regular reports, the Depart- 
ment (that consuls may not stagnate) sends numerous 
circulars stating what it would particularly like to 
know. Sometimes it has a burning desire to find out 
all about pisciculture or forestry' and their laws in for- 
eign countries ; then there is some special branch of 
agriculture or horticulture or arboriculture it wants to 
be posted on, such as the raising of hops, or wine, 
or tobacco, or beet-sugar, or tulips, or mulberry -trees. 
Then again it wants to know all about systems of 
credit abroad, — whether people are fond of giving 
credit, and for how long, and at what rate of interest, 



MRS, PARDIGOLE, 33 

and whether such credits have a good or bad influence 
on trade and the morals of the mercantile community. 
Then it wants to have statistics of all kinds of mills and 
factories ; how large they are, how many hands they 
employ, how much they produce, how many hours the 
hands work, what wages they get, how they are able 
to live on such wages, whether they drink much, and 
whether they use much tobacco, and whether they fight 
much among themselves; how much profit the manu- 
facturers make on their wares, and how they behave 
towards their w^orkmen, — and hundreds of other things. 

The Department even goes so far as to make a regu- 
lar Mrs. Pardiggle out of the consul, for it instructs 
him how he must interview " representative work- 
men and their families and secure the information di- 
rect, somewhat after the manner of the following ques- 
tions." It then gives a schedule of personal questions 
to be put to these unoffending parties, something in the 
st^'le of a fourteenth century inquisition, as to how old 
they are, and how long they have been married, and 
how many children they have, and how much they 
earn, and what they spend their money for, and what 
they eat and drink, and how much, and when they 
get up, and when they go to bed, and what kinds of 
clothes they wear, and how much they pay for school- 
books, and what their doctor's bill comes to, and 
whether they save anything for old age or for sick- 
ness, and what they expect will become of their fami- 
lies if they die. 

But it is not only the common laborer that the De- 
partment is after; it wants to know the wages and 
salaries and incomes, and the manner of living of all 
sorts and conditions of men; of officials, of farm-hands, 
of tradesmen, of hod-carriers, of army and navy offi- 
cers, of soldiers, of clerks, of washerwomen and of sow- 
ing-girls ; and of the prices of lodgings and clothing, 
and the staple articles of food. 

Then it wants to be informed of the number and 
kinds of cattle in the land, its condition, its appearance, 
its value, its weight, its quality, its breed, and how 
much fodder it consumes. 



34 RINDERPEST. 

It sometimes seemed to me as if I were going to 
school again, when I had to write compositions on 
these interesting subjects. 

Once the Department wanted to know all about the 
Rinderpest : the cause and progress of the disease, its 
origin, its symptoms, its treatment, its danger; what 
laws were in force to prevent its spreading, and in how 
far the United States might suffer through the conta- 
gion if salted or frozen hides from infected countries- 
were allowed entry at our ports. 

I somehow, all at once, took a deep interest in the 
subject. I made the Rinderpest my special study. I 
traced back its history to the most ancient times. I 
hunted up the best authorities on the subject, and read 
their works lovingly. I corresponded with several of 
the most celebrated experts of Germany (cattle doc- 
tors) and got their opinions. I translated all the im- 
perial German, and all the Bavarian, and all the local 
laws and ordinances bearing on the matter ; I visited 
the Eoj^al Veterinary College at Munich to get the 
personal views of the professors there. 

In the course of my investigations I made the ac- 
quaintance of more sick cows (figurativelj^ speaking) 
than one could shake a stick at, and I built up a 
lengthy and exhaustive despatch for the Department, 
well filled with good, swelling medical and surgical and 
pathological terms, — and I hoped I had done my whole 
duty thereby. But I suppose my scientific work was 
too deep for the compilers at Washington, for it was 
historically, geographically, nosologically, aetiologically, 
symptomatically, therapeutically, and prophylactically 
handled ; it was never published, as should have been 
done, for the benefit of suffering bovines of our land. 

Perhaps it was this want of appreciation on the part 
of the Secretary of State, and my failure in being able 
to appear before the public as a medical writer, that de- 
terred me from reporting to the Department a scientific 
discovery I made some time after, touching the man- 
ners and customs of our aborigines. I give it here as 
follows : 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 35 



THE STOEY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 

The glory of the great fairs that were, in old times, 
held in all the larger cities of Europe, has departed. 
In Germany, the fair at Leipsic is the only one that 
retains anything of its former importance. Up to 
the year 1870 there were two fairs held in the 
city of Munich,* one in January, commencing on the 
day of the Holy Three Kings, or Twelfth-tide, and the 
other in July on St. Jacob's day, and each lasting a 
fortnight. The large plantation extending along the 
Maximilian's Platz from the monument of Schiller to 
that of Goethe, with its undulating lawns and winding 
paths, where groves of roses and rhododendrons are 
sheltered by the strong young oaks, and which is nick- 
named by the people the " Munich Alps," was, within 
a few years ago, a great pebbly stretch of blinding 
whiteness, where dust for the whole city seemed to be 
kept on hand, and it was then, not inaptly, called the 
" Desert of Sahara." But twice a year its aspect was 
changed, — it presented then a stirring picture, full of 
life and sound and color. Long rows of wooden booths, 
forming three or four avenues, extended from end to 
end, — and even farther down, across the Carl's Platz 
to the Protestant church, and sometimes even beyond 
that building, so conspicuous in its bandboxy ugliness. 
Every kind of ware was temptingly displayed for sale 
in these temporary shanties : toys and fancy articles, 
dry goods, clothing, woodware, tin and iron and brass 
and copper ware, earthenware and china, gloves, rib- 
bons, hats and bonnets, boots and shoes and slippers, 
tools, clocks, kitchen utensils, books, pictures, cakes and 
candies, and, in fact, everything that a person could 
possibly want or not want, and it was the time-honored 
custom of the good wives of the town to put off making 
their necessary purchases until it could be done at .the 
fair, where the system of jewing could be carried on to 
its most prolix extent ; they thus combined entertain- 

* These fairs are now role^ated to the suburb Ilaidhauson. 



36 STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 

ment with business, and had the satisfaction of buying 
trash much cheaper and also more trashy than they 
could have done at a respectable shop, and had the ad- 
vantage of having to carry it home themselves without 
its being wrapped up, so that all the neighbors could 
see the splendor of their purchases. 

But people didn't want to buy only, — they wanted 
amusement also, and it was generall}^ the neighbor- 
hood of the Protestant church that was reserved for 
circus and menagerie, monkey-shows, marionette-thea- 
tres, and puppets, wax-works, — historical, anatomical, 
and horrible, — panoramas, dioramas, dwarfs, giants, fat 
women, big pigs, two-headed chickens, fortune-tellers, 
and all the usual array of rifle-booths, strength-testers, 
swings, carrousels, roulettes, and ring-pitchers. The 
din of the competing bands, mingled with hand-organs, 
big bells, and trumpets, was ear-splitting. 

I confess to a weakness for such shows. You pay 
your money, and you are always taken in ; but once in, 
you seem to think that human nature is not so bad 
after all, for you see how little it really takes to amuse 
people. 

Among these sights at the last of these fairs, jammed 
in between the fat woman and the "fairies' grotto," 
was a booth plastered over with the very wildest of 
gaudy paintings, and containing "two living, genuine 
wild Indians from the Eocky Mountains of North 
America, — the chiefs Scalp-um-boi-wid-ta-moi-hegan, 
and Wam-pum-wam-pum-pai-ure-wam-pum." There 
was a loud-mouthed man on the little platform in front 
gesticulating wildly and yelling at the top of his voice, 
and anon rushing up to a big bell that was hung from 
one of the posts supporting the roof, and jangling it 
frantically. On first impressions one might have taken 
him to be one of the wild Indians let loose, but closer 
inspection showed him to be a white-skinned animal, — 
only something the worse for dirt. He was pointing 
with a stick to the pictures above him, and from the 
description he gave of what was to be seen within, he 
w^as perfect!}^ tame compared with what was on the 
other side of the canvas curtain, — the curtain that 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 37 

separated the public from his savage guests. Every 
now and then a bloody yell shot out from the interior 
of the booth, thus giving accentuation to his vivid nar- 
rations of the habits of the dreaded warriors, — of the 
war-path, — of tomahawking and scalping, — of the tor- 
tures at the stake, and of horrible massacres where the 
reeking knife never got dry from the blood of its shriek- 
ing victims from one onslaught to another. 

The wondering crowd outside was told that these 
savages ate only living animals, and that now was the 
time to see them, and that they were just on the point 
of " producing themselves" in their national war-dance, 
in shooting and in tomahawk-throwing, and that the 
performance would conclude by their eating live pigeons 
and hares before the eyes of the public. Here he held 
up a frightened little rabbit by the ears, which curved 
its back and kicked desperately. 

Such a show was not to be resisted, and, especially 
as these Indians were fellow-countrymen of mine, I felt 
doubly bound to see them. 

I rattled my twelve kreuzcrs on the plate, — going, 
of course, into the aristocratic part of the house. The 
curtain was drawn aside to let me in, and I stood among 
about twenty other people in eager expectancy. When 
as many people were caught as could be reasonably 
expected in one throw of the net, the performance at 
length commenced with some invisible yelling behind 
the scenes that would have done credit to the most 
cannibalistic lungs that ever breathed an air odorous 
with the steam of roasting missionary. The little 
green blanket that separated us from the stage was 
now pulled back, and the two savages, with mighty 
bounds, sprang in from the right and the left and con- 
tinued their diabolical yelling, but now showing the 
extent of the mouths from which the frightful noises 
proceeded. They were artistically gotten up in their 
war-paint and feathers; a leopard's skin girded their 
loins ; they had rings in their noses, and the traditional 
gold bands on wrists and arms and atikles. They 
were fine-looking fellows, and they did their work well. 
They danced and they sang, and screeched and howled, 

4 



88 STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 

and blew on a distracting horn made of a big sea-shell, 
which sounded like the last trump in its melancholy 
madness. They attacked each other in mimic combat ; 
they shot with their bows and arrows, and flung a 
hatchet behind the wings, which probably fetched up 
in a box of saw-dust placed there for the purpose. They 
made horrible grimaces at some of the women among 
the audience, as if they would like to chew them up. 
Sometimes they made a start towards a young girl as 
if with the intent of killing her — or of embracing her, 
but they slunk back, awed and subdued by the stern 
and commanding gaze of their master, who proved to 
be the loud-mouthed man in front, who had deserted 
his post for a few minutes to come inside and explain 
the show. A lad who had been assisting the old lady 
with the cash-box at the entrance evidently took the 
loud-mouthed man's place in front in the mean time. 

But their greatest feats were reserved for the last, 
when a live pigeon was brought in. Both savages 
made a dive for it. The one who secured it at once 
took the head of the poor bird in one hand, the body in 
the other, and with his teeth bit its neck apart. Fling- 
ing down the head, he set to work to eat the rest, spit- 
ting out the feathers with a great spluttering. The 
meal on the live rabbit was pretty much the same, ex- 
cept that the fellow spit out fur instead of feathers. 
But there was no mistake about the animals having 
been alive and that they were now perfectly dead. 

The moment I saw these interesting savages, I set 
down one of them, at least, for a gentleman of color, — 
not copper color, but of that cooler shade of black 
which generally accompanies a woolly head, and in the 
jargon that they made use of in their savage conversa- 
tion with each other I thought I detected some English 
words which sounded very much like, " Whar's dat 
doller yo' owe me, — when'r yo' gwine to pay me 
back ?" Perhaps my ears deceived me, and it was all 
genuine Choctaw. 

Still, I did not regret having seen at a small expense 
these wild Indians, — wilder than any I had ever seen in 
America, — and I went out of the booth quite satisfied. 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 39 

All the other shows after that seemed very tame to 
me. 

The fair was over, and the booths were rapidly- 
cleared away; snow fell, and the Desert of Sahara was 
transformed into a sample of the polar regions, so cold, 
so bare, so deserted did it appear in contrast with its 
late life and gayety. My wild Indians had flown with 
the rest of the shows. 

It was a week or two after this that I received a 
letter from Bamberg, — a long, scrambling letter, in 
which the unrestrictiveness of the orthography kept 
pace with the playful irregularities of the chirography, 
— yet it was a lachrymose letter, for it was blotted here 
and there with tears — and ink, which had been hastily 
licked up, after the manner of school-boys ; but by way 
of compensating for the blots, it was undisturbed by any 
punctuation-marks from beginning to end. It came from 
a Mrs. Krumbach, of Dudenhofen. 

Mrs. Krumbach wrote that she was the proprietress 
of the wild Indians and of the booth ; that she had 
separated from her partner (who, it appears, was the 
loud-mouthed man, and who had made off with all the 
earnings), and that now she and her son had the busi- 
ness alone, but that the Indians had deserted her. The 
one man, she said, was a negro, who gave a different 
name at almost everyplace he went to, but w^as known 
to her as Abe Chuffers ; the other man was a Spaniard. 
She said that both these men had run away from her, 
and that both owed her money, but she was particu- 
larly down on Chuffers, who, she assured me, owed her 
thirty-eight florins and forty-two kreuzers, and treated 
her most brutally. He was an American, and he made 
a practice of going to the American consuls and min- 
isters and begging money of them, and that, as he gen- 
erally forfeited his passport in every town he visited 
(where it was retained by the police as a guarantee for 
his appearance to answer sundry charges made against 
him), he also begged for a new passport of the A merican 
officials, and told all sorts of lies in order to get one. 

She begged me on her knees (she said) if either of 
these men came to me, not to believe a word they said, 



40 STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS, 

and by no means to give them money nor a passport, 
but to compel them to pay her back the money they 
owed her. 

I pitied the poor old lady; but what could I do ? 
The birds were flown, and I could not help her. I soon 
forgot the matter. 

Lots of people came in on all kinds of business, as 
usual, and with all kinds of wants, and among the latter 
came one morning a young, fine-looking colored man, 
whom, from his appearance and bearing, one might 
have taken for a steward on board ship, or something 
of that sort. He told me that he was very hard up ; 
that he had just arrived in Munich ; that he had been 
travelling on foot, and he begged me to give him a little 
money and some old clothes. He pulled up his trousers 
to show me that he had no drawers, and he pulled up 
his sleeves to show me that he had no shirt. He was 
suffering dreadfully from the cold, be said, and was 
very hungry. There was something in the fellow's 
physiognomy that had a familiar look to me, and it at 
once struck me that he must be my wild Indian, the 
very man who had so wronged poor Mrs. Krumbach. 

I went about my work diplomatically, and questioned 
him closely. 

" Where did you come from last ?" 

" Well, sah, I come from Stuttgart." 

" YouVe never been in Munich before ?'* 

" Oh, no, sah." 

" What have you been doing over here?" 

" Well, sah, I was servant, sah, but the 'gemman as 
engaged me didn't fulfil his contrac', an' he turned 
me loose over heah in a strange country, an' I hadn't 
got no money to get my rights wid, an' now I ain't 
got no money to get so'thing to eat with." 

"You're sure you've never been in Munich before?" 

" Oh, no, sah, never seed Munich afore yest'day." 

" Now, look here, young man, weren't you connected 
with some kind of a show which was here during the 
fair some weeks ago ?" 

I looked steadily at him. I had got to the top round 
of my diplomacy. He looked steadily at me, and se- 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 41 

riously, — then his eyes began to twinkle, and at last 
he broke out into a regular guffaw, and he said, — 

" Well, now, 3'ou got me, sah. Yes, sah, I wos one 
of dem wild Indians." 

" ISTow, it would have been much better for you if 
you had told me the truth at once ; why didn't you do 
so?" 

" Well, sah, I felt a little ashamed o' myself." 

I then laid the contents of Mrs. Krumbach's letter 
before him ; told him he had treated the old lady most 
shamefully, and that it was his duty to go to some kind 
of work at once, and pay her as soon as possible. He 
looked down into his hat for a while, then rolled his 
eyes up and said, — 

"I^ow, see heah, sah, let me tell you de whole truf 
of de stor}^. De fac' is, I don't owe de ole woman no 
money, but contrarily, she owes me money, 'cos I 
wasn't paid nuffin' for de whole time I was in Munich. 
De ole woman didn't engage me ; de man engaged me, 
but de ole woman kep' de cash-box. De ole woman 
an* de man had a fight when we wos about to leave 
Munich, an* de man ran away an' stole de cash-box, 
an' I didn't get no pay eider way, but if I git hold o' 
de ole woman agin, she's boun' to pay me." 

I began to get interested in the case, and asked him 
how he happened to get into such a business. 

He said he was born in New Orleans : that previous 
to the war he had been a slave. After getting his free- 
dom, things didn't turn out as well as he had thought 
they would. He couldn't earn enough to keep himself, 
so one day he joined a ship that was about leaving for 
Hamburg. On board the ship he got acquainted with 
a German, who told him he was in the circus and show 
business in America, but was now going back to Ger- 
many to start a company there. 

"He as'd me how much wages I was gettin' on do 
ship, an' I told him thirty dollahs a month. He sez 
to me, ' Wouldn't yo' like to earn fo'ty dollahs insted of 
thirty?' Sez I, ' Well, I guess I would, boss.' So, scz 
he, ' When we git to Hamburg, if yo'll go wid me, I'll 
pay yo' fo'ty dollahs a month.' 

4* 



42 STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 

"De bargain was soon made, so wen we got to Ham- 
burg, I went wid him. I didn't know what he wanted 
me to do; I didn't know weddah, p'raps he wanted me 
to ride in a circus, or to 'xplain de animals, or to act, — 
p'raps Otello, or suffin' of dat sort. At Hamburg he 
got hold of anoder man, a Spaniard by birth, from 
Brazil, an' he took us two to Frankfort, but we didn't 
know yet what we wos to do. 

" One day he goes out, an' he cums home agin' an' 
brings a leopard-skin and some feathers wid him, an' 
he sez to me, ^ Now, Abe,' sez he, ' yo' got to take off all 
yo' close, an' to put on dis skin an' put dese feddahs 
in yo' wool, an' yo' got ter play de wile Injun !' 

*'I tole him I didn't know how to play wile Injun, 
an' dat I wouldn't take off my close; but he soon tole 
me dat I hadn't any money to live on, an' dat I was 
in a strange country, an' dat if I didn't do what he 
wanted me, he'd give me over to de police ; so I was 
skeered, an' I had to take off all my close. Den ho 
dressed me up right bizzness-like, an' he put a big ring 
dat had a spring in it in my nose, an' oder rings in my 
ears, an' den he shows me how to dance, an' how to 
holler. De ring, sah, pinched my nose, but he tole me 
I'd soon git use to dat. I didn't find de work wery 
ha'ad so fur; I soon learn' de wa'-dance, an' de wa'- 
hoop, an' to frow de tomahawk, an' to shoot, but den 
he come to me, an' he sez, ^ Now, Abe, yo' got to learn to 
eat live pidgins,' an' he fotched one in. But I couldn't 
do dat, sah. Den de odder man comes in, de Spaniard, 
— he'd bin playin' wile Injun befo'; but he never tole 
me so, an' he knew all about it. Den dey bof gets at 
me togedder, an' dey cuffs me, an' licks me, an' dey 
makes me bite into de pidgin's neck. Oh, sah, de 
feddahs an' de little bones, dey git in my throat an' 
most choke me, an' I got awful sick afterwards. But de 
man told me I got to do dat, or else starve, or go to de 
police. After dat, he comes an' he brings me a couple 
of tumblers, an' he sez, *Now, Abe, yo' got to smash 
dese tumblers wid yo'r fist to show de people how 
strong yo' are.' An' look heah, sah, all dese scars I got 
smashing up glass tings wid my fist." 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 43 

Here he pulled up bis coat-sleeve and showed several 
scars on his arm, but they appeared to me to be very 
old scars, and were probably caused by something 
else. 

He then went on to tell me that after a week's re- 
hearsal at Frankfort, in which his colleague, the Span- 
iard, also put him up to many of the niceties of the 
business, they came to Munich. In Frankfort, his 
boss (the loud-mouthed man) fell in with Mrs. Krum- 
bach, who was momentarily out of business, but with 
a small sum of ready money in her pocket, and asso- 
ciated himself with her. She and her son were to have 
half the profits, the man the other half, and the Indians 
were to be paid so and so much per week. 

They came to Munich, performed here for two weeks 
during the continuance of the fair, and then there was 
a general smash-up. The old woman went off in one 
direction, the man in another, and they left him and 
his comrade here alone, in a strange country, and quite 
penniless. He begged me again to give him a few 
florins and some clothes, and asked me to help him to 
get some work here. He w^as willing to do anything, 
he said. 

I was not inclined to believe his story altogether, for 
the old lady's letter seemed quite sincere. I told him 
he had better go round to the hotels, — that he might 
probably get some some situation as boots, — that they 
were often glad to have people for such places that 
speak English. He answered that he had been round 
to all the hotels in town, but that none of them had 
any work for him. 

An idea then struck rae. I told him to go to the 
Academy, — that he might there be able to earn some 
money; that it wasn't often the students or the profes- 
sors got hold of a colored model, and that they would 
be likely to make use of him. 

At this proposal he seemed very indignant. 

" What, sah, go to do 'Cademy, an' stan' dare naked 
afore all de geu'lemen? No, sah, I couldn't do such 
a ting to save my life." 

I began to get tired of him now, and told him I 



44 STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS, 

could do nothing for him ; that he should go to the 
Academy at once; that it was no worse to stand 
naked before a few gentlemen than to dance and carry 
on half naked before an indiscriminate public. I gave 
him a trifle for his immediate needs, and he went off, 
and I supposed that was the end of the matter. 

It was some weeks after this that I stepped into a 
small beer-house one evening, and was looking over the 
papers, when my attention was arrested by some loud 
talking behind me. That was nothing unusual, for the 
talk in beer-houses generally is loud, but it seemed to 
me that I had heard one of the voices before, though 
I could not remember where. I looked round, and 
there, sure enough, was the loud-mouthed man who 
had belonged to the wild Indian show. He was en- 
gaged in rather excited conversation with a little Jew 
in a striped waistcoat, and the subject of the conversa- 
tion seemed to be money. 

As I was about going home, I happened to turn my 
head, and I noticed that the loud-mouthed man was now 
sitting alone, his companion having left him. A sudden 
impulse seized me to gain some information from this 
man; it was not just curiosity that prompted me, — I 
suppose it was the nobler feeling of a desire after truth, 
— for the statements of Mrs. Krumbach and of Chuffers 
were so diametrically opposed to each other that they 
certainly showed discrepancy somewhere. 

I stopped in front of the man and told him how I 
came to know about him, and that I had received a 
letter from Mrs. Krumbach who said Chuffers owed her 
money, and that afterwards Chuffers had come to me 
and said that Mrs. Krumbach owed him money. 

The man at once sprung to his feet, holding his hat 
in his hand ; he was very polite, and very communica- 
tive. He began by saying, " Now let me tell you the 
truth of the story." He said it was perfectly true that 
he had engaged the men, but that he had turned over 
the business to Mrs. Krumbach, and that he had only 
been acting as her agent. 

He told his story pretty much in this way : 

" That nigger's an awful blackguard. Mrs. Krum- 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS, 45 

bach don't owe him any money at all ; she paid him 
well and she treated him well, and he's got plenty of 
money now. (With indignation :) he hungry, and got 
nothing to eat ?^that'8 all sham ; and if he had no shirt 
or drawers on, he took 'em off on purpose to go to you 
to beg. (Lowering his voice, and insinuatingly:) he 
don't owe Mrs. Krumbach money, that's true, but he 
owes me money, the blackguard, for I lent it to him 
privately out of my own pocket. 

" When we left Munich we went to D , where 

the fair commences after the one at Munich closes. At 

D Chuffers was drunk almost all the time, and 

we couldn't do anything with him. He was so beastly 
drunk that instead of dancing and yelling as he ought 
to have done, he would come on the stage and lie down 
and go to sleep. That was enough to spoil the busi- 
ness. When I tried to rouse him by kicking him up, 
he got furious, and threw the hatchet at me. Such a 
thing couldn't go on, so we told him he'd have to quit. 

" But that wasn't the worst of it, sir. I had a girl at 

D , and there this nigger began making love to 

her and tried to cut me out. One night after the per- 
formance 1 caught him on the street walking with my 
girl, with his arm around her waist. I pitched into 
him, and we had a regular fight. My girl pitched in 
too, but she took his part, and her thumps and scratches 
were all directed at me. I got Chuffers down on the 
pavement at last, but the woman pulled me back by 
the hair, and set up a dreadful screaming, or I believe I 
would have killed the fellow. Just then a couple of 
gens d'armes came up, arrested us all three, and took 
us to the station-house, where we were each locked up 
in a separate cell. 

" While I was sitting there alone through the night, 
I began to think over the matter, and I came to the 
conclusion that it was best to let Chuffers keep the 
woman, — she wasn't worth my love if she turned round 
against me so for a nigger. The next morning we each 
had a fine to pay, and as I thought my girl was begin- 
ning to cost me a good deal, and might lead me into 
further trouble, I considered it best to make up with 



46 STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 

Chuffers, for then he would pay me back the money he 
owed me, — and my girl became his sweetheart. Chaf- 
fers left us at D , and the other man ran away too; 

but I didn't get my money. Oh, sir, if you could only 
help me to get it from him. 

"It's all a lie that Chuffers can't get any work, — he 
doesn't want to work. He's got plenty of money, and 
I'll get it out of him yet. He plays billiards all day, 
and at night he goes to the dance-houses and drinks 
champagne, and lives like a baron. He plays cards, sir, 
and that's the way he gets it." 

The man told his story in such a simple, straightfor- 
ward way, that I was quite convinced my colored fellow- 
countryman was even wilder than if he had been a real 
Indian. 

Poor Mrs. Krumbach must have got wind of this in- 
terview, and wanted to get ahead of the loud-mouthed 
man in his claims, or else she came spontaneously, 
merely to seek redress for her wrongs. However that 
may have been, it was not long after when, one after- 
noon, she called at the office, bringing her son along with 
her. She was a short, thick woman, with a blue cloak 
and a sprawling umbrella. The first thing she did was 
to burst out into a shower of tears, and as her boy drew 
the back of his hand a couple of times across his nose, 
I suppose his heart was full too. The woman's recital 
w^as most pitiful. She too began by saying " now let 
me tell you the whole truth of the story." ^ 

She then informed me that wild Indians and such low 
thinorswas not her lec:itimate business. Herlescitimate 
business was anatomical wax-works. She had been in 
that line of business for many years, and she had been 
the possessor of one of the finest collections of anatomi- 
cal preparations that was ever shown at any fair. She 
had had one specimen in particular (of which she 
seemed to be very proud), — a full-sized human figure 
cut down through the middle showing the action of 
the heart and the bowels, "just like life." It struck 
me though that I had never heard of a live gentleman 
cut in two and displaying his heart and bowels under 
a glass case. She had had the breathing Venus accom- 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 47 

panied by two amorettes with darts, and the wounded 
soldier that rolled his eyes and groaned. Within the 
last few years there had been a great deal of competi- 
tion in wax- works, and it was hard to get public enough 
to support such an expensive show. Her husband, who 
used to explain the figures, died, and her son was still 
too young to be of much assistance to her. Things 
went worse and worse, until at length, just before the 
closing of the fair at Frankfort, her whole collection 
was sold out by the sheriff. Piece by piece went off 
(at ruinous prices) to different parties ; the Venus to 
one, the wounded soldier to another, the man with the 
action of the heart and bowels to a third, and thus the 
once celebrated anatomical museum was scattered, and 
nothing was left her but a board sign, fortj^ feet long (but 
which could be taken apart in pieces), painted blue and 
white, with the legend " Mrs. Krumbach's Celebrated 
Anatomical and Mechanical Museum," — for which no 
one bid. 

Here there was a fresh gush of tears. The floor was 
already sprinkled with them. 

She couldn't make use of this sign any more; it was 
only a dead piece of lumber on her hands. As long as 
all her beautiful wax preparations were gone, what 
did she care for this sign ? So she left it in the lurch 
at Frankfort. The auction sale, notwithstanding its 
sacrificing character, left her a small sum of money in 
hand, and that was enough to entice Herr Stiirmersberg 
(the loud-mouthed man) to propose to her that they 
should go into partnership with each other with the 
Indians. 

This was her complete ruin. (Fresh sobs.) 

She had never had to do with such brutes before, she 
said, and they kept her in a continual state of terror; 
the Spaniard wasn't such a bad man, when he wasn't 
drunk, but the nigger was a perfect devil. 

The little money she had rescued from the anatomical 
wreck he had forcibly wrenched from her. Ahnost 
every day he came to her for money. She paid him 
his wages when they were due, and then she paid him 
in advance, but not satisfied with this he came again 



48 STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 

and again, and continually, to borrow money. He 
demanded the monej^ of her with dreadful threats. If 
she refused, or even hesitated, he would jump at her, 
and catch her by the throat and flourish his hatchet 
over her head, declaring he would split her open if she 
didn't hand him the cash. Twice he had got after her 
with a knife and chased her all around the room until 
she gave him what he demanded. So it came about 
that she had given him, from time to time, thirty-eight 
florins and forty-two kreuzers, and that she was thus 
rendered utterly penniless. She had always hoped 
that when his drunken spell passed over he would 
come to his senses again, tame down and play the Avild 

Indian, and work out what he owed her, but at D 

he ran away from her, and she had heard that he was 
now in Munich, leading the wildest kind of a life. She 
had scraped together her last pennies to come to Munich 
with her boy to hunt him up, and to try to soften his 
heart, and to beg him to pay her; but when she saw 
him last night, the fellow had the audacity to say he 
didn't owe her anything, but that she still owed him, — 
*' which, oh, Mr. Consul, is not the truth." 

She couldn't tell me enough about the fellow's atro- 
cities ; not alone that he had completely ruined her, but 
he frightened hel* so that her nerves were completely 
shattered, and she was subject to violent cramps. 
(Here a fresh volley of tears, — fresh sniflles from the 
boy.) 

But the man's cruelties culminated in the circum- 
stance which poor Mrs. Krumbach related as follows: 

" You could hardly believe it, sir, that a human be- 
ing could have such a heart of stone. When he had 
got all my money from me, and knew that we were 
nearly starving, this wretch came over to the little 
tavern where I stopped last night, and while I and my 
poor boy were gnawing a crust of bread and a rind of 
hard cheese, he took a seat opposite us, at the same 
table, and ordered fw;o portions of roast hare with pota- 
toes and mushrooms, — and ate them up before our very 
eyes." 

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. 



STORY OF TWO WILD INDIANS. 49 

That was the hare that broke down poor Mrs. Krum- 
bach. 

What could I do but give her a trifle that she could 
get something to eat ? 

She said it wasn't money she came for, as she com- 
placently slid it into her reticule, but to ask me if 
nothing could be done to make Chuffers pay what he 
owed her. She thought that if Mr. Consul would take 
the matter in hand, she would get back her due. I 
explained to her that in her case she could only go to 
the Bavarian authorities for redress. 

"But," she said, ^'if Mr. Consul would only write to 
the President about it." 

It was with difficulty I could get rid of Mrs. Krum- 
bach. When the door finally closed upon her, it was 
the last I saw or heard of poor Mrs. Krumbach and 
her sorrows. 

The wild Indian never came to me again, but I saw 
him from time to time on the street. I heard that 
he had, when other resources gave out, gone to the 
Academy. He must have made some money at this, 
for he was really a good-looking fellow, healthy and 
muscular, and was a fine model. Indeed, I had an 
opportunity of seeing his black body on many a canvas 
in various studios afterwards. At length he disap- 
peared entirely. Perhaps he is eating live " pidgins" 
at some other place now. 

I find that this is the story of one wild Indian only, 
but I presume the reader has had enough with one. 



50 BARNUMS ABROAD. 



CHAPTER III. 

Barnums abroad — Zulu chieftain — Bedouin trapeze artist — American 
Hercules — Egyptians with learned frogs — Colonel Sellers — Complaints 
of minister to Spain — Multifarious correspondence — Inquiries in 
regard to Munich — Man who practises animal magnetism — Prices of 
living in various German cities — Labor, wages, and condition of work- 
ing class — Arti6cial breeding of fish — Tobacco — Wants to be made a 
member of Statistical Society — Hops — Bread — Telegraphs — Railroads 
— Railroad brakes — Oiling car- wheels — Fire departments — Sugar-re- 
fineries — Nickel-plating — Audience of the king : does he speak Eng- 
lish — Ladies attending court ball — Newspapers in Bavaria — Statistics 
of mortality — Slaughter-houses — Selling lands in United States — To 
write art articles for newspapers — Preserved milk — Categorical ques- 
tions — Fire-extinguishers — Platform scales — Lithographic stones — 
Quarries at Soluhofen — Opening for improved coffins — Drunkenness — 
Where to hire a piano — Where to buy a parasol — Where to get milk 
from *' one cow." 

There are Barnums (in a small way) in Europe as 
well as in the United States. After the melancholy- 
death of the French Prince Imperial, Zulus were in 
demand. A showman in the ^' Natural Curiosities" line 
came to me with a young negro, to make application 
for a passport for him, who was performing as a Zulu 
chieftain, clothed with a shield and an assegai, and 
scarcely anything else. 

Another colored gentleman, who came to me for as- 
sistance, was performing as a Bedouin trapeze artist, 
and another (also in trouble), but who came out in his 
true colors, was picking up a living as an American 
Hercules. The poor fellow's travelling-van had been 
attached by the police because he was not able to pay 
his (fair) dues. 

Being on a dark subject, I will relate one other case. 

Two '^ gentlemen of color," — gentlemen of the very 
darkest dye, — of that shade in which charcoal would 
make a white mark, called at the consulate. I asked 
them what they wanted (in English, of course). When 
an American meets with a negro abroad it seems to 



COLONEL SELLERS, 51 

him a natural thing that the negro should speak only 
English. I was therefore not a little surprised to find 
that the two strangers did not understand me. They 
spoke French, and a little German. They wanted my 
assistance and intervention with the police. They 
were in the show business, and exhibited learned frogs, 
— frogs that went through all kinds of exercises, such 
as drawing each other in carriages, tight-rope dancing, 
and broadsword fighting. The police authorities had 
refused to give these. men permission to exhibit in 
Munich, because their performances with their froggies 
were looked upon as coming under the category of 
cruelty to animals. They wanted me to use my good 
influence in controverting that extreme view of the 
police, and offered to give me a private performance, 
and to show me how their amphibians were trained, 
that I might convince myself of the gentle treatment 
the frogs received at their hands, and of the alacrity 
with which they did everything that was required of 
them. In fact, they assured me the frogs rather en- 
Joyed it, and intimated that they were actually jump- 
ing for a chance to show their feats. As one of the 
fellows here made a motion of his hand towards his 
breast, I began to fear he might have some of his pets 
about him, and was going to demonstrate on the spot, 
and it flashed through my mind what a demoralizing 
spectacle it would be if a party of staid Americans 
should happen to drop in and see the consul surrounded 
with such festive vermin. 

On inquir}^ I found out that the men were Egyptians. 
I was glad to be able to tell them that they were in 
the wrong shop, and I turned them and their frogs 
over to the tender mercies of the Turkish consul. 

I do not know when the character of Colonel Sellers 
was first conceived, but, at any rate, long before he 
made his appearance on the stage I knew a man in 
Munich who was equally sanguine and equally ingeni- 
ous in his schemes for making his own and everybody 
else's fortune. He hadn't done it for himself yet when 
I first made his acquaintance. He had only got so far 



52 COLONEL SELLERS. 

as having a large family of small children, with a sure 
promise of increase to it. He had served in some public 
capacity at home, and had come to Germany for his 
health, or for his wife's health, or for somebody's 
health. At any rate, he had been living for some 
months at Munich, and every time he called on me he 
enlarged on some new business project he was about to 
go into. He was very fond of writing letters, too, in 
true Micawber style. In his first letter he communi- 
cated to me that he was about embarking in a splendid 
enterprise. Having, unfortunately, just at that moment 
no capital, he was going to send a petition to the king, 
and he wanted me to recommend him to His Majesty, 
and to exert my good offices with the king in con- 
vincing him of the national importance of the proposed 
speculation. 

My optimistic acquaintance was going to buy up all 
the kid gloves manufactured in Munich and export 
them to the United States. By becoming the exclu- 
sive purchaser he would be able to get the goods at 
lower prices, and, by extending the demand for the 
article, manufacturers would be able to work cheaper 
than hitherto. He would be able to sell his wares at 
home at such a low rate that all competition would be 
driven out of the market, and, having succeeded thus 
far, he would also become exclusive seller in the United 
States, and could then make his prices as he pleased. 

He demonstrated that he would be benefiting both 
countries (but particularly Bavaria) with his grand 
scheme ; and he only wanted the king to advance him 
twenty thousand florins, which he would soon be able 
to repay him at a rate of interest that would astonish 
His Majesty. 

Only nine days after this (it was at the time of the 
Franco-German war) came a second letter. He had 
come down a peg in his aspirations. It was not the 
king, now, he wanted me to win over, but the Eoyal 
Bavarian Minister of the Koyal Household and for 
Foreign Aff'airs. He requested me to call on the min- 
ister, and to get him to use his influence in procuring 
for my friend an appointment as officer in the German 



COLONEL SELLERS. 53 

army. He was willing to go down as low as the rank 
of captain, for he knew that in a time of activity, where 
the soldier had a chance to display his talents in the 
field, he would soon advance to the top. He was kind 
enough to tell me in his letter (to save me trouble) just 
what I should say to the minister in his favor. He 
gave me a long list of the positions of trust and honor 
he had held in the United States, and of his own 
achievements in the military line. Besides, he had 
always, he said, been a great admirer of the German na- 
tion ; had always taken a lively interest in its welfare ; 
bad always exerted himself to glorify its deeds of arms. 

He was too late with his offer; for the Germans, 
seeing by that time that they were likely to win, did 
not want any outside help. 

When this project fell through he was quite pros- 
trated. He had given up the glove business, because 
he considered the profession of arms a much nobler 
occupation, and thought that in time of war he with 
his inventive resources could make it remunerative. 
He was now in despair. 

Certain events at home, which could not be put off, 
took place. He found himself richer in one respect, 
but pecuniarily he was worse off than ever. This last 
disappointment weighed so heavily on his mind that 
he was in danger of losing it. A gentleman who lived 
in the same house, on the floor below him, came to me 
in a state of the greatest apprehension. He said tlie 
man above him kept walking the floor incessantly, 
groaning and tearing his hair; and he was sure that 
before long the gentleman would commit suicide, as he 
was continually calling for a pistol, with which to put 
an end to his miserable existence. What then would 
become of the wife and all the children ? Besides, how 
horrible would it be for himself if such a tragedy were 
enacted over his htiad, with the blood, perhaps, oozing 
through the ceiling. 

Things did seem to bo looking very black, and I was 
considering what ought to be done in such a case, 
when, that very same afternoon, my desponding coun- 
tryman himself made his appearance. I felt very 

6* 



B4 COLONEL SELLERS, 

nervous when he came in, for I had a vague impression 
that perhaps, not wishing to disturb his family, he had 
brought his pistol with him, and was going to finish 
himself off at the consulate. 

But my first glance reassured me. My friend did 
not look dishevelled, nor show any signs of conster- 
nation, but, on the contrary, wore a smile on his face, 
and was in the highest of spirits. He grasped me 
warmly by the hand, and said that he had now found 
out something, — the thing. 

He had accidentally come across a man who had 
made a most important and useful invention, but, being 
a poor devil without friends, he w^as willing to sell it 
for a mere song. My sanguine fellow-countryman 
Baid it would never do to let such an opportunity slip. 
All he wanted of me was to advance a few thousand 
florins. We would then buy the invention, have it 
patented all over the world, and, the patents once 
secured, we would start the working of the thing on a 
grand scale on the spot. 

'' It's the greatest chance I ever heard of," said he. 
^^ There's millions in it." 

After having made a very flattering computation of 
the profits for the first year, which, he said, would be 
doubled the next, I ventured to ask him in a difiident 
manner (for his calculations rather dazed me) what the 
invention might be. 

" It's a new system of pitching," said he, quite tri- 
umphantly. 

I was greatly perplexed even after this disclosure, 
for, misled by the association of ideas that sprang up 
in my mind, I w^as in doubt whether it had any refer- 
ence to the motions of a vessel, or to the pitching of 
quoits, or to the still nobler game of pitch and toss ; 
perhaps it was a method for making heads always win. 
The idea really had some poetry in.it, till he explained 
that the invention in question had relation to a new 
system of pitching beer-barrels. I do not recollect 
now — did not exactly understand at the time — how 
the thing was to be done, but from that moment I lost 
all interest in it. 



MULTIFARIOUS CORRESPONDENCE. 55 

He was now quite despondent again and cursed his 
fate, and was going home to shoot himself again; but it 
was not many w^eeks before he came with another 
scheme, — and again with another. 

At last he got hold of something that was the real 
thing, — there was no mistake about it this time. 

I was not sorry to find that this real thing w^as not 
in Bavaria, but far off, and as it was to be secured at 
once, it necessitated his leaving suddenly with his 
whole family. 

One of our ministers to Spain once wrote to the De- 
partment complaining of the multifarious correspond- 
ence with which the Legation, in addition to its legiti- 
mate duties, was burdened, by applications from pri- 
vate individuals for mercantile, political, statistical, and 
miscellaneous information : many of these requests, 
he said, if properly attended to, would involve a vast 
amount of research and labor, and take up a consider- 
able amount of time, "and," he added, "it was not en- 
couraging to have days of patient eifort pass without 
even thanks to stimulate like efforts in future." But 
he was only a minister, and people comparatively spare 
a minister when they know that a consul is the right 
person for them to attack. I suppose every officer in 
our foreign service would have like material to com- 
ment upon to the Department of State if he were dis- 
posed to do so, but neither the head of our home office 
nor his assistants would be likely to manifest further 
interest in the subject than that contained in the reply: 
" Your dispatch. No. 999, has been received. I am, sir, 
etc." I will recite here a few of the wants, made both 
verbally and by letter, that were presented to my con- 
sulate, and which, I may conscientiously add, I tried to 
answer fully and to the best of my ability. 

Of course, it is not necessary to more than allude to 
the numerous inquiries in regard to Munich itself, — 
its climate, its sanitary condition, its advantages for 
business or for pleasure ; in regard to the cost of living 
there; in regard to its hotels, and whether they are 
clean and comfortable, and moderate in their charges; 



56 MULTIFARIOUS CORRESPONDENCE. 

in regard to schools and other institutes of learning ; 
in regard to the facilities for studying art, music, medi- 
cine, chemistry, languages, etc. ; in regard to teachers, 
lawyers, doctors, dentists, chiropodists, etc. One lady 
was in search of a man who " practises animal mag- 
netism for her three daughters who are ill," and wanted 
particularly to know whether he was '^ an intelligent 
man." 

Some parties not only wanted the prices of living, 
schooling, etc., at Munich, but asked me to make out 
comparative tables of such prices for Munich, Stuttgart, 
Dresden, and other cities. 

In regard to information concerning labor, wages, 
and condition of the laboring classes as already referred 
to in speaking of consular reports to the State Depart- 
ment, I received dozens of communications from states, 
corporations, and humane individuals who had the wel- 
fare of the w^orking-man at heart. 

One party wanted to know all about the artificial 
breeding of fish as practised in Bavaria, and asked me 
to call on a certain gentleman noted for his success in 
this line, and to " find out from him all you can." 

Another modestly asked the consul to give him a full 
report on the " cultivation, production, and commerce 
of tobacco in any foreign country which has been 
visited by the consul, or in the country in which he 
resides," — and to make it easy for him a schedule of 
sixty-one questions to be answered was submitted con- 
cerning the subject. 

A gentleman on this side, equally interested in the 
weed, sends an elaborate historical and scientific essay 
on the plant, and wants the consul to forward it to the 
Statistical Society of New York, and to manage that 
he (the writer) may be made a member of that society, 
and be furnished ^\\i\\ the usual diploma; he will be 
much obliged to the consul if he will do this for him. 

Of course, being in a country where the best hops in 
the world are raised, this plant came in for a full share 
of my investigation. 

The board of health of New York is interested in the 
staff' of life, and inquires into the police regulations of 



MULTIFARIOUS CORRESPONDENCE. 57 

Munich in regard to the making, baking, and selling 
of bread ; — what are its component parts ; what are its 
qualities, price, weight, and how are these controlled 
by the police ; in what way are the regulations carried 
out, and what are the punishments for fraud and 
adulteration. 

One party wants to be posted on the telegraphs and 
telegraph system of Bavaria, another, on the railroads 
and railroad system ; a third confines his wishes to in- 
formation in regard to railroad brakes as used in 
Bavaria (Haberlein's system) ; while a fourth, still more 
modest, wants me to '^find out all about a patent 
method of oiling car-wheels to prevent the boxes get- 
ting hot, said to be used on the Bavarian railroads for 
some years past.'* 

One letter asks for information in regard to the 
strength, efficiency, and method of working of the fire 
departments in Bavarian cities; another wishes a reply 
in regard to sugar-refineries, and another in regard to 
nickel-plating, while still another inquires how a 
person must go about getting an audience of the king, 
and whether the king speaks English. 

Some ladies, royally disposed, were anxious to at- 
tend a court ball. I did my best for them (for fear 
of the consequences if I should appear lukewarm in 
seconding their ardent desire). The answer of the 
Eoyal Master of Ceremonies was couched in such 
politely, diplomatically turned sentences that the ladies 
experienced quite a feeling of satisfaction in hearing 
how very deeply His Majesty regretted not being able 
to have the pleasure of making their acquaintance, for 
the reason of the time being so short (the letter was 
written on the day that the ball was to take place). 

One gentleman desires the consul to send him a list 
of all newspapers and periodicals printed in Bavaria, 
with their price, size, circulation, and tendencies; 
another begs for statistics of mortality. 

A board of health of one of our cities wants the 
consul to investigate the arrangements and working of 
the slaughter-houses; it has heard that a sort of mask 
is used over the head of the ox to prevent it from seeing 



58 MULTIFARIOUS CORRESPONDENCE, 

the man with the axe, and to make the stroke in- 
fallibly deadly: it wants to know if the living oxen see 
the others killed, and whether anything is done to 
alleviate pain in the butchering; it also wants to know 
the consul's opinion as to whether the ox has any con- 
sciousness of what is going on around him, and if the 
smell of the fresh blood seems to affect him. 

I am almost ashamed to say that my studies in ox- 
ology had been so neglected in my youth, that I did not 
feel competent to offer my speculations on the last two 
questions. 

Once I was called upon by an incorporated company 
to assist in selling land in the United States to Bava- 
rians, and about the same time an editor of a conti- 
nental English journal requested me to write some art 
articles and notices of American artists in Munich for 
his paper. He would be very happy to print them, he 
said, and hoped that next year, when his paper had got 
a better footing, he would be able to pay liberally for 
my subsequent productions. All that was very flatter- 
ing, but I was once still more flattered by the confidence 
placed in my judgment, of a gentleman who wrote 
asking me to get Professor Baron von Liebig's opinion 
of preserved milk, and to give him also my opinion of 
it. 

Sometimes the information sought for is to be given 
in a series of answers to a direct line of questions put 
in quite a familiar way. A woman, who, it appears, 
has money owing to her by a Bavarian officer, and who 
has some trouble in getting it back, sends nineteen ques- 
tions, regularly numbered, the last of which is, "Now 
how in the world could an officer go and make debts, 
and, in spite of his fortune, not have to pay them, and 
how could he get advanced from captain to lieutenant- 
colonel, when the city court must have known of his 
debts r 

I was obliged to " give it up." 

A gentleman "down East" wants me to tell him all 
I know about chemical fire-extinguishers, while another 
wants to know what system of platform scales is used 
in Germany, and a third is interested in lithographic 



MULTIFARIOUS CORRESPONDENCE. 59 

stones. I may remark here that the quarries of Solu- 
hofen, in Bavaria, are the only ones in the world that 
produce the peculiar stone used for the finer kinds of 
artistic printing, — there is nothing elsewhere that equals 
it. It is curious that so near to the city where the art 
of lithography was discovered and perfected, the only 
stones suitable for its purpose should have been lying 
for thousands of years undisturbed and ready for Sen- 
nefelder's hand.''' 

The gentleman who wrote to me was particular in 
his inquiries. He says, " Please inform me what sort of 
stone is, or was, found near the surface ; was it in boul- 
ders or in slabs ? How deep is it necessary to go before 
good stone (perfect enough for printing) is found ? Is 
it much harder on the surface than in the ground ? Are 
the quarries on a hill-side or in a valley ? Does the 
color change as the quarries are penetrated ? etc. Give 
me all the information you can." 

It will be seen from the foregoing what a goodly 
scope of subjects is presented to the consular mind for 
rumination. One jovial man, who was undertaking in 
more senses than one, even wanted to ascertain if there 
was no opening in Bavaria for his improved coffins, and 
sent me a ver}^ prettily illustmted catalogue of his 
wares as a bait to catch purchasers for his luxuries. 
But the favorite subject of inquiry from our side of the 
water was in regard to the consumption of wine and 
beer and their effects on the population, — in short, in 
regard to drunkenness. One clergyman Avanted to 
know " at once*' all about i^^ These persons generally 
requested information in extenso, and accompanied by 
published reports and statistics, and they would be 
happy to " remit" upon their receipt. I am sorry to 
have to say that on a couple of occasions the gentlemen 
whom I had fattened up with manuscript and printed 
documents forgot both their thanks and their remit- 
tance. On one occasion, a reverend gentleman was so 
very particular in his inquiries, going into the niceties 

^ Lithography was invented by Sennofoldor at Munich, towards tho 
dose of the last century. 



60 SOMETHING ABOUT FIDDLES, 

of the different qualities of intoxication resulting from 
the drinking of beer compared with that from wine or 
spirits (as if I had tried them all, — I mean the intoxi- 
cations), that I felt inclined to invite him to come over 
to Munich and go to the court brewery with me, where 
I would soon give him an opportunity of seeing just 
twice as much as he generally does with one pair of 
eyes. 

But to conclude this long recital of a consul's minor 
activity, I will only mention further how a lady sends 
an exhaustive letter, the gist of which is to ask where 
she can hire a good piano by the month, and what it 
ought to cost, while another lady came in person to 
consult me as to the best place to buy a parasol, and 
how a gentleman rushed in one morning, almost breath- 
less, with a little tin can in his hand, to know " where 
in the mischief" he could get ^' milk from one cow." 
He was a young man, and it was evidently his first 
baby, and I could vividly picture to myself, from the 
cheesy pallor of his countenance, the terrors of the 
night's screaming he had gone through. I happened 
to know that " one cow," — it was just around the cor- 
ner, and I sent him on his way rejoicing. 



CHAPTEE IV. 

Something about fiddles — How many fiddles in the United States — Mit- 
tenwald — Jacob Stainer — Andreas Hofer and Stainer — Matthias Klotz 
— Neuner A Hornsteiner, Baader <fe Co. — Difference in build of violins 
— Origin of the violin — Zithers — Concert at Mittenwald — " Isar roll- 
ing rapidly." 

If any one wanted to investigate the question as to 
whether we are a musical people or not, I think he 
need only take a census of the pianos in the United 
States, and he would find that there are at least one 
and a half instruments to each man, woman, and child 



SOMETHING ABOUT FIDDLES. 61 

of the whole population. I give this estimate as based 
upon the published statements of the piano manufac- 
turers themselves in their advertisements (for, like the 
sewing-machine men, they try to outdo each other by 
telling us how many hundreds of thousands of their 
contrivances of torture are in use). 

Now, the piano is a popular instrument, and the 
number of fingers that work upon it daily and nightly 
(I won*t say play), if put to some useful occupation, 
would add millions to the treasury, as the statisticians 
say. Besides, the piano is a pleasing and graceful piece 
of furniture, and looks well in a room ; the owner is 
proud of it, and likes to show it, and takes good care 
that people in the street who can't see it shall hear it. 
There is no mystery about the piano : we know it is 
there. 

But take the fiddle. There are very few people who 
ever think about a fiddle. Its very insignificance has 
given rise to the saying, " I don't care a fiddle for it," 
and anything that is trivial in its nature we call "fid- 
dling faddling," and when we want to express con- 
tempt for any remark or opinion we say, " fiddle de 
dee," and even the unoffending performer on this in- 
strument does not escape the contumely of having a 
person in the last stages of intoxication characterized 
as being " drunk as a fiddler." 

This would all seem to prove that the fiddle is not 
popular with us either subjectively or objectively, and 
one would suppose, therefore, that w^e as a nation 
owned very few fiddles, and yet such is not the case. 
Indeed, since 1 have been consul I have even been 
sorely vexed in my brain by trying to solve the difii- 
cult conundrum, "What becomes of all the fiddles?" 
To me the solution seems much more give-it-upablo 
than that of the older question of " What becomes of 
all the pins?" I have made a careful computation, 
and find that there are about fifty thousand violins ex- 
ported every year to the United States. Now, that is 
only one instrument to every one thousand of our pop- 
ulation ; true, but then one must consider that a fiddlo 
is not a thing that is soon used up, or a thing whoso 

G 



62 FIDDLES IN THE UNITED STATES. 

form is subject to the changes of fashion, or a thing 
which is only good in a fresh state. On the contrary, 
there is every inducement to keep it as long as possi- 
ble, for a good violin is like good wine : it improves by 
age, and becomes more valuable as years pass over it. 
It appears, therefore, that a violin is not a thing that 
would be wantonly destroyed ; as fuel they cannot be 
advantageously employed, as the amount of heat pro- 
duced by their combustion is so trifling in comparison 
to their bulk, that even the laziest man is convinced 
that it is better to go to the back shed and chop his 
wood honestly, if he wants his pot to boil, than to rely 
on his fiddle for that purpose. Though a fiddle may 
sometimes be used to knock a man over the head with 
(in which encounters the fiddle suffers more damage 
than the head), such performances are comparatively 
rare. Again, a fiddle is not a thing that can be 
converted into a table or a work-bench, or a book- 
case, or even a receptacle for dried apples, as one often 
finds an old piano used in countr}^ places. Its limited 
dimensions preclude all such uses. The disappearance 
of a fiddle, therefore, has something mysterious about 
it ; but I know they do disappear in some way, other- 
wise we would be overflooded by them by this time. 

Now, allowing for all the vicissitudes of life, if we take 
only ten years as the average age attained by a violin 
we will see that we have a standing army of five hun- 
dred thousand fiddles, which would be one to each hun- 
dred of our population. But ladies, with but very few 
exceptions, do not use a fiddle ; it is properl}^ a weapon 
for the sterner sex, and for the sterner sex indeed only 
after it has emerged from the innocence of childhood 
(we know that some of our Congressmen are addicted 
to the fiddle, — it would be well if they were addicted 
to nothing worse). If, then, we deduct from the whole 
population the number of females, of males under ten 
years, and of " Indians not taxed," we arrive at the 
astonishing conclusion that there is one violin in our 
land to about every twenty-five men. Now, if I put 
down the whole number of my gentleman acquaint- 
ances at five hundred, I ought to know about twenty 



MITTEN WALD. 63 

men who own violins; but I don't; I don't think I 
know the eighth of one man to a hundred who has 
one, and so the question comes up again in my mind, 
What becomes of all the fiddles? 

From the consular district of Munich about seven 
thousand violins are exported to our shores every year. 
These instruments are generally of a better quality 
than those sent from Saxony and other places, and are 
somewhat higher in price. They are made at a little 
village in the south of Bavaria, close upon the borders 
of Tyrol, — at Mittenwald. 

The Isar is a picturesque stream from its source in 
the Tyrolese Alps, and throughout all its windings to 
where it flows into the Inn, at Deggendorf, whose 
waters have but a short flow until they mingle with 
those of the Danube. But scarce at any part is the 
Isar so wildly lovely as near where it takes its rise in 
the Karwendel Mountains, which tower to a height of 
over seven thousand feet. Here, wedged in between 
the rocky buttresses of the Bavarian Alps, and in 
the valley of the young Isar, lies Mittenwald, at the 
very foot of the gigantic walls w^hich in winter admit 
the sunlight only for a couple of short hours, and even 
in summer throw their shadows over the valley long, 
long before the sun has left the world on the western 
side of the rugged mountain ridge. 

Mittenwald is now a quiet little market town, shut 
out from the line of travel, and only visited by those 
who delight in the beauty and grandeur of nature. 
Every ten years, when the Passion Play at Oberam- 
mergau is performed, some few foreign tourists make a 
foot trip from there to Partenkirchen and Mittenwald, 
and thence on to Lake Kochel, but at other times the 
route is little traversed except by Bavarians. 

Some four centuries ago, the shady road, now almost 
deserted, which follows the windings of the Isar almost 
as far as Lake Walchen, was the bustling highway over 
which the riches of foreign lands, gathered together in 
the lap of mighty Venice and sent by her into the 
great Empire of Germany, all took their way. Those 



64 JACOB STAINER. 

indeed were different days for Mitten wald, — those were 
her golden days, and she rose to the zenith of her im- 
portance when, in the year 1487, the great Italian fair 
which up to that time had been held at Bozen was 
transferred there. Mittenwald at once became the 
commercial centre for the trade between Italy and 
Germany. Here the Venetian merchants settled their 
annual reckonings with their German customers. Im- 
perial gold flowed freely in exchange for the articles 
of luxury of which, at that time, proud Venice was the 
dispenser to all parts of the civilized world. Rich and 
tempting wares were displayed in the booths; the 
productions of far-off lands were exposed for sale. 
Festivities and merry-makings of all kinds took place, 
and people were attracted from great distances and 
from many countries to this fair, either for the pur- 
poses of business or of pleasure, or of both. 

But this prosperity lasted only for two centuries, 
when the fair, for some reason not fully explained, 
w^as, as suddenly as it had been transferred to Mitten- 
wald, restored again to its original seat, Bozen. At 
once the life and splendor which Mittenwald had re- 
ceived through the great fair vanished with it, and the 
wealth and importance of the place gradually declined. 
New roads began to be opened between Italy and Ger- 
many, and the former immense traffic of Mittenwald 
soon flowed through other channels. The place being 
now deserted as a mart of commerce, and, owing to 
the rocky nature of the country around, there being no 
resources to be had from agriculture, its people gradu- 
ally fell into poverty. 

It was about this time that the manufacture of vio- 
lins at Mittenwald commenced. 

But I must here leave Mittenwald for a moment to 
speak of the first manufacture of violins at a little 
village some miles south of it, in Tyrol. 

Up to the end of the sixteenth century, musical in- 
struments, especially stringed instruments, were only 
made, to any extent, in Italy. At that time, when 
Italy was the blooming garden of all the arts, she was 



JACOB STAINER. 65 

also celebrated for the wonderful violins made by Stra- 
duarius, Guarnerius, Amati, and others, masterpieces 
of skill, and which at the present day are worth more 
than their weight in gold. 

In the year 1627 a poor peasant-woman by the name 
of Stainer, living at Absam, in the valley of the Inn, 
gave birth to a son. The boy was weakly in body, but 
his mind developed rapidly, and it soon became ap- 
parent that he was more than ordinarily gifted, and, 
especially, that he had a natural turn for music. The 
kind priest of Absam, a friend of the family, and him- 
self as poor as the peasants around him, was one of the 
first to recognize the genius of young Stainer, and he 
persuaded the father not to make a peasant of the boy 
like himself, but to put him to an organ- builder in the 
neighborhood to learn the trade, thinking that thereby 
his young charge would have opportunities of perfect- 
ing himself in music. But it was soon found that the 
lad was not strong enough to perform the work in the 
construction of such large instruments, many of the 
pieces which he necessarily had to handle being very 
heavy ; his master himself then made the proposition 
to the elder Stainer that his son should leave him and 
be put to learn the making of violins instead. 

There were no violin-makers in the neighborhood, 
and it was no small sacrifice the poor parents were 
called upon to make in order to send their son to Italy. 
It is very likely the good priest at Absam contributed 
his mite, too, for the journey. At any rate, the boy 
was sent to Cremona, and was taken into apprentice- 
ship by Nicholas Amati, who also soon became con- 
vinced of his great musical talents and admired his 
genius. Amati took a great personal liking to Jacob 
Stainer, which increased from year to year. The liking 
of master and pupil for each other seems to have been 
equally strong on both sides; they got to be, notwith- 
standing the disparity in age and station, intimate and 
inseparable friends. Amati initiated young Jacob into 
all the secrets of his profession, and openly confided to 
him all he had learned through long experience and 
constant practice. Years passed on; the lad grew up 
e 6* 



66 JACOB STAIN ER, 

to manhood ; he was still as industrious and eager to 
excel as ever, but a shade seemed to be thrown over 
his spirits. He became quieter, and gradually more 
reserved in his manner towards his master. 

Amati had a daughter, — she was no doubt young 
and lovely, — but Stainer being of a shy nature began 
to feel ill at ease in his master's house, and when forced 
into conversation with the girl, addressed her only in 
the most distant terms. He began to talk of leaving 
Cremona, under pretence of wanting to see more of the 
world, and further, to perfect himself in his musical 
studies. Amati was distressed at the thought of 
Stainer leaving him, and imagined that he had found 
out the secret cause of the youth's uneasiness. He 
was anxious to retain Stainer permanently at Cre- 
mona, and thinking the latter's diflSdence might pre- 
vent him for a long time from making any advances 
towards his daughter, resolved to cut the matter short 
by proposing to Stainer that he should marry her. 
Here seemed to be a solution of the difficulty, which 
the young man would eagerly accept; what was 
Amati's astonishment and chagrin, therefore, on awak- 
ing next morning, to find that Stainer had disappeared. 
He was nowhere to be found. 

It is supposed that Stainer, being of a dreamy nature, 
had already formed an attachment, even as a child, in 
his native village, which still held possession of his 
heart ; at any rate, the prospect of being kindly forced 
into a marriage with Amati's daughter seems to have 
frightened him. He secretly left Cremona and fled to 
Venice, where he worked for some time with Vimercati, 

He had now thoroughly learned his trade, — he had 
learned to make those wondrous shells of wood which, 
when deftly handled, give forth such entrancing tones ; 
and being a good musician besides, he was able to test 
practically what his hands had fashioned. He soon 
returned to his native village in the broad valley of 
the Inn, and married there. Through his great in- 
dustry and energy, and on account of the superiority 
of his instruments, which were considered equal to 
those of the Italian masters, his fame rapidly spread, 



JACOB STAIN ER. 67 

and it was not long before he received the title of 
court violin-maker, first from Archduke Ferdinand 
Charles of Tyrol, and soon afterwards from the Ger- 
man Emperor, Leopold of Austria. 

But dark days were in store for Stainer towards the 
close of his life. 

At the fair at Hall, near Innspruck, where Stainer had 
gone to sell some of his instruments, he happened, out 
of mere curiosity, to buy a Lutheran book of a wan- 
dering peddler. The mere handling of such a book at 
that time, in the very heart of Catholic Tyrol, was 
looked upon as an abomination, and this thoughtless 
act of his drew upon him the suspicion of heresy. The 
intolerance of the Jesuits hunted him down, even to 
the foot of the throne, so that Stainer thereby lost the 
protection which the Emperor had hitherto extended 
to him, and, falling into debt shortly afterwards, a 
humble petition for assistance which he sent to the 
Emperor was entirely disregarded. 

Stainer had a large family, and poverty came creep- 
ing on him. He had never been a good business man, 
and now that age was coming on too, he began to be 
haunted with the idea that he had sold his instruments 
too cheap, and that through his own want of tact his 
family had now to suffer. He fell into a state of deep 
melancholy which soon ripened into raving insanity. 
He was only relieved from these tortures by death, 
some four or five years afterwards. At his home at 
Absam a bench is still shown, upon which the poor old 
man was bound during his paroxysms of madness. 

Next to Hofer, the victim of Napoleon's cruelty, 
there is no name so well known to the Tyrolese as that 
of Stainer. His whole history is somewhat clothed 
in mystery, and many are the legends related by the 
simple people of this weird musician who made his own 
instruments, and drew from their strings the most won- 
derful and heart-touching melodies as he wandered 
through the rocky passes and the wild forests of his 
native land. This much is certain, that Stainer first 
introduced the manufacture of violins into Germany. 
Ho departed from the Italian form in the build of the 



68 MATTHIAS KLOTZ. 

instrument, and made many improvements in its con- 
struction. Through Stainer, indirectly, the manufac- 
ture of violins was established at Mittenwald. 

As I have already stated, at the time the great Ital- 
ian fair, as it was called, was removed from Mittenwald 
to its original site, Bozen, and when new roads were 
opened for the traffic which formerly passed through 
Mittenwald, the town lost its importance and itswealth. 
Its inhabitants became poorer and poorer, and a crisis 
seemed impending. 

At last one of Mittenwald's sons arose like a savior, 
at this extremity, to ward off destruction from his 
native town. He conceived the idea of introducing 
the manufacture of violins into Mittenwald, and he 
hoped in time to make it a second Cremona. This 
man's name was Matthias Klotz. His father, Egidius 
Klotz, originally a poor peasant, was a violin-maker; 
he had learned the art of Stainer at Absam. He was 
Stainer's best pupil, and had already made instruments 
which were considered as good as those of his master. 
Egidius Klotz, after he had left Absam and returned to 
Mittenwald, had instructed his son Matthias in his art. 
Matthias, in his youth, had visited the greater part 
of Upper Italy, and had worked there under the best 
masters, especially at Cremona and Florence. The 
father and son were quite alone at their trade at Mit- 
tenwald. The son thought he would soon be able to 
instruct the simple villagers in the making of the sev- 
eral parts of the instrument, which could then be put 
together under his superintendence, and that thus re- 
munerative employment might be furnished to almost 
every inhabitant of the place. He took into consider- 
ation, too, that the very best wood for the purpose 
grew in abundance in the great Bavarian forest, and 
especially round about Mittenwald itself He knew 
that this wood was preferred b}' all the Italian makers ; 
here he had it close at hand, and could select it and 
season it to suit his purpose. This wood is the so-called 
hazel-pine : it grows in lean soil in deep valleys where 
it is best protected from storms. The rings arc lar 



MATTHIAS KLOTZ, 69 

apart, and towards the outside of the trunk, nearly 
equidistant from each other. When the wood is split 
it has a peculiar metallic lustre, and the veins are 
straight and parallel. The wood, even at the present 
day, is exported to all parts of the world for the mak- 
ing of sounding-boards for all stringed instruments. 

Matthias Klotz soon got the citizens of Mittenwald 
interested in his project, and the more easily, as they 
too saw that something must be done, some new indus- 
try started, to make up for what they had lost in the 
way of their fair and the trade it had brought them. 
The hardy sons of the mountains took to their new 
employment under Klotz's guidance with hearty good 
will. They were industrious and patient and tracta- 
ble, and before many years had passed they had be- 
come able to produce instruments of such fine quality 
that they were at first often sold as genuine Stainers. 
Mittenwald began to become known again to the out- 
side world, not now as a mart of commerce, but as 
being the seat of manufacture of the best stringed in- 
struments of all kinds in Germany. 

The amount of the sales of violins at that time was 
of course not to be compared to that of the present day. 
Then, the finished instruments — violins, violas, bass- 
viols, and guitars — were carried on the backs of ped- 
dlers or agents to the neighboring countries to find a 
sale. With the music-loving monks these poor fellows 
always found a hearty welcome and a night's shelter, 
and glad were they, after a hard day's march over hilly, 
rocky roads and dangerous mountain paths, to stop at 
the portal of the cloisters to unstrap their heavy pack 
from their shoulders, and to partake of a good meal in 
the refectory, which was cheerfully offered them in ex- 
change for the news from the outside world which 
these wandering merchants brought to the recluses. 

Now, on approaching Mittenwald, one meets on the 
highway huge four-horse wagons piled up with cases 
of instruments, which are taken to the nearest railway 
station, thence to start on their long journeys to other 
countries of Europe, to Asia, Africa, America, and 
Australia. 



70 MANUFACTURE OF THE VIOLIN. 

To-day, the two principal firms in this business are 
Messrs. Neuner & Hornsteiner, and Messrs. Baader 
& Co., both of which date back through many genera- 
tions. They have successively extended their business 
until it has reached its present importance. 

Although a part of the work in the making of violins 
is done in the factories of these two firms, by far the 
greater part is done by the inhabitants of Mittenwald 
in their own houses. After the sawing of the woods 
of diff'erent kinds, all furnished by the surrounding 
forests, and which is often seasoned for fift}'' years be- 
fore it is used, the rough pieces are given to the pattern- 
maker, who cuts them into shape. They are then dis- 
tributed to the various workmen, who each make only 
one particular part, and, indeed, the same part he has 
been accustomed to make from childhood up. One 
man makes only the necks, another carves only the 
scroll-work at the end, another makes the finger- 
boards, a fourth makes nothing but bridges, the next 
only pins, and so on, until each of the separate parts 
are finished. The making of the shells themselves, 
and the so-called coffins (the indented periphery which 
forms the sides of the instrument), is confided only to 
the most skilled and experienced hands. It is now the 
work of a distinct party to cut the/ holes, a very deli- 
cate operation ; another fits the parts together, a third 
does the gluing. The varnishing is mostly done by 
women. As you pass through the clean streets of the 
town and look in at the low windows, you see nothing 
but men, women, and children busily at work on some 
particular part of the instrument. 

One not accustomed to seeing violins, or to thinking 
much about them, would suppose they were all alike, 
and it would be as difficult for the layman to notice the 
difference between them as it is for the married man 
to discover the necessary variations in the monthly 
changing fashions of his wife's bonnets; and yet each 
style, each ''make" of violin, is as distinctive in its 
model as that of the various builds of ships. Each 
great master had his peculiar model. In the establish- 
ments of either of the two firms alread}^ mentionel can 



ORIGIN OF THE VIOLIN. 71 

be seen a collection of instruments of each of the most 
celebrated masters, and the amiable proprietors take 
great pleasure in pointing out to the uninitiated their 
distinguishing qualities. The violin in its present form 
is the outgrowth of several rude, ancient instruments, 
the most fitting parts of each — further developed and 
combined — making an instrument different from them 
all, but exhibiting certain characteristics of each. The 
rebec and the crowth and the lute, the latter of Egyp- 
tian origin, gave birth to the viola, which was a favorite 
instrument in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. 
But it was only towards the end of the sixteenth cen- 
tury, in Italy, that the violin was perfected. All sorts 
of variations and experiments had been made in the 
number and arrangement and material of the strings, 
and it took two hundred years to teach the makers 
that the real quality of the tone lay in the wood, and 
not in the strings, and the Italians were the first to pay 
attention to the properties of the wood and to improve 
the form of the instrument. Stainer gave the greatest 
care to the selection of his wood. He knew every tree, 
and studied closely its growth and its properties. It is 
said he most highly prized quite old trunks whose top 
branches just began to show signs of decay. 

The best strings still come from Italy. Packed in 
air-tight tin boxes, they are stored in the two establish- 
ments I visited to the value of hundreds of thousands 
of florins. 

The violin, like a painting or any other work of art, 
may have almost any value ; new ones such as made at 
Mittenwald cost from less than a dollar to several hun- 
dreds of dollars. Even the cheapest are quite good 
instruments, sufficient for all purposes for any ordinary 
performer. 

The modern viola and violoncello date back to about 
the beginning and middle of the sixteenth century re- 
spectively, the bass-viol or contrabass to the beginning 
of the seventeenth century. 

But there is another instrument which I must speak 
of in this connection, which belongs essentially to the 
Alps, — the zither; and Mittenwald is the princij^al i^laco 



72 CONCERT AT MITTENWALD. 

of its manufacture. There are several zither-makers 
in Munich and Vienna, but they are nearly all natives 
of Mittenwald and learned their art there. In the 
mountainous regions of Bavaria and Austria there is a 
zither in almost every house, and there is something 
touching in the sight of these stalwart, broad-shouldered 
mountaineers with their powerful, sunburnt hands, as 
they lovingly bend over this little instrument and 
bring forth from it sweet, bell-like sounds, varying the 
low, plaintive love-songs with the brisk, stirring andler. 
Of late years the zither has come into fashion in other 
countries, but it seems out of place, and will only be 
liked there as long as it is fashionable. It is purely a 
national instrument, and to hear it at its best one must 
hear it in its home, and handled by those that know it 
best, and love it. 

King Maximilian the Second founded an Academy at 
Mittenwald in the year 1859, where the young people 
can get a better education than had hitherto been 
offered them. Practical instruction in the art of violin- 
making is there given. The courses have been further 
extended to theoretical branches, and to musical in- 
struction, for it is necessary that the maker of a good 
violin should also be a good musician. 

These people are music-loving by nature, and in the 
evening, seated in the cosey public room of the inn, we 
had convincing proof of their great executive profi- 
ciency and of their fine feeling and understanding. 
Quartettes of Beethoven and Haydn and Handel were 
performed in a manner that would not have dishonored 
the columned hall of the Eoyal Odeon. The improvised 
concert was varied by performances on the zither, and 
by singing ; for the good Mitten walders are not be- 
hindhand in their devotion to the grand vocal com- 
positions for which Germany always has been and 
always will be the home. 

The hours flew rapidly by, and it was a happy even- 
ing, — we felt that we were among kind-hearted, simple, 
good people, and in our full enjoyment the words of 
Schiller swept through the soul like a vibrating accom- 
paniment to the whole, — 



''ISAR ROLLING RAPIDLY,'' 73 

" Wo man singt, da lass dich nieder, 
Bose menschen haben keine Lieder/* 

As we have just been lingering on the banks of the 
Isar at Mittenwald, there are still a few words to say- 
about this stream when it reaches Munich. 

It is well known (we have it on the authority of 
Mr. Twain) that no tourist can go to visit the Colos- 
seum at Rome without murmuring, " Butchered to 
make a Roman holiday ;^' so there is scarcely a mid- 
dling capacitated traveller who does not remark, on 
crossing any of the bridges at Munich, " And so this 
is the ' Isar rolling rapidly.* " 

I then have to explain. Perhaps it may save my 
successors in office, for all generations, trouble by en- 
lightening our countrymen and others on the geographi- 
cal discrepancy between the real site of the battle of 
Hohenlinden and its universally accepted proximity to 
the Isar, induced by the too frequent spouting of Camp- 
bell's stirring poem in our schools. 

The Isar at its nearest point is twenty-five miles dis- 
tant from Hohenlinden. There is a small stream, the 
Isen, which takes its rise near that place. It does not 
even flow into the Isar, but into the Inn at Menotting. 
It is probably the slight similarity between the two 
names that confused Campbell, and made him take that 
poetical license of twenty-five miles in length which 
has further confused all who visit Munich, and make 
a point of quoting him. 



DESCRIPTION OF PEliSON OX PASSPORTS. 



CIIAPTEll V. 

Descriptions of person on passports — Noses iloscribod on passports, ob- 
long — Costume of a soiilpturing woman — Wanting to make a bust of 
the king — Consul to write to the king — Kaulbach and Achenbach, bow 
pronounced — Consuls' titles — Jokes on consul's title — Contents of let- 
ters, funny — Samples of German- English letters — Queer titles and 
headings in (lorman letters — Pasting holy pictures in letters — l^egging 
letters — Long letters about nothing from Americans — A rounded letter, 
tish-hooks — The consul a little postmaster — Telegrams coming at all 
times of the night — *' Try Munich" — Dead letters — Startling letter, 
** I have to be executed here to-morrow." 

In old times it was not possible to travel in Europe 
without a passport. It w^as just as necessary as any 
other part of the traveller's equipage, and to lose one's 
passport w^as worse than losing one's pocket-book : 
nione}^ can be replaced ; it is merely the representative 
of what one can do, but the passport is the representa- 
tive of what one is : it established the respectability and 
the harmlessness of the bearer, — it documented his 
reputation. 

On approaching the borders of a new sovereignty 
(and Germany and Italy especially had scores and 
scores of little, distinct sovereignties that were not much 
bigger than the crown of your hat) the passport had 
to be visaed on one side of the line to find out if it were 
safe to let you out of the country, and on the other side 
of the line to see if it were safe to let you in. An old 
passport is quite a curiosity; it is so bespattered with 
stamps and seals and signatures that can't possibly bo 
read, and permissions to leave hero and to enter there; 
the three blank sides of the large folio sheet were in- 
sufficient lor all these gracious embellishments of the 
police agents, if one made an extended tour, and a little 
book was generally attached to the passport, and the 
latter folded into it. It follows, that for such a paper 
to have any use at all, it was necessaiy that the de- 
scription of the bearer should be very closely given, — 
that it should fully identity him, in fact. I hope it may 



NOSES DESCRIBED ON PASSPORTS. 75 

be no anachroniftm to say that it was intended to take 
the place of the photograph of the present day. 

With the decline of the importance of passports the 
art of pen-portraiture has also declined. The descrip- 
tion of the person as given in our passports nowadays 
is often ludicrous in the easy generalization with which 
our smart clerks at the State Department smooth over 
the physiognomies of our most interesting fellow-coun- 
trymen. 

Here is one of many such descriptions which is quite 
unique as a specimen of vivid characterization; it gives 
Buch a striking likeness of the bearer that no police 
agent could possibly mistake him: 

Description of the person of John Smith. 

" Age, 40 years. 

"Stature, 5} feet. 

" Forehead, middling. 

"Eyes, round. 

"Nose, middling. 

"Mouth, middling. 

" Chin, middling. 

" Hair, short. 

" Complexion, middling. 

" Face, oval." 

The person who filled out the above description was 
certainly not fond of going into extremes; he kept to 
the golden middle. 

The nose being the most salient feature of the 
human countenance, it naturally has more individu- 
ality than the others, and for ordinary people it is 
more easy to describe. Our clerks have therefore at- 
tacked this protuberance more successfully in their 
passport descriptions than any other part of our per- 
sonality, and it gives them play for the most extended 
variety of adjectives. I have seen it described as long, 
short, broad, narrow, stout, png, Eoman, aquiline, 
])ointed, peaked, hooked, straight, crooked, humped, 
stub, angular, prominent, disproportionate, and pro- 
jecting, and one gentleman of fine feelings wrote down 
"pyramidal at the nostrils." 



76 A SCULPTURING WOMAN, 

On another passport, a man who was blessed with a 
nose of rather conspicuously noble proportions had it 
characterized as ^^ oblong." The party writing that 
word meant to be sharp, no doubt, but it is a question 
whether he knew what oblong means. 

She was a sculpturing woman, and her costume was 
peculiar. Perhaps it was what some people call stat- 
uesque, whatever that may mean ; at any rate, the 
most prominent piece of her wardrobe was a black veil 
which must have been some half-dozen yards long, 
and which was slung around her head, and then below 
her chin, and over one shoulder, — along her back, up, 
under her arm, around her waist, and back again to 
her neck by some complicated process of slipnoosing 
and belaying which was evidently studied from the 
snakes in Laocoon. 

She was bent upon making a bust of the king, and 
she wanted my assistance, — not in making the bust, 
but in giving her an introduction. She wanted me to 
write to the king that she would like him to give her 
a sitting, — one sitting only, for, being a quick worker, 
she could finish him up in that time. 

I ventured to hint at the king's peculiarities, and 
told her I was afraid it would be a difficult matter, for 
His Majesty was known as the "royal hermit" and was 
entirely inaccessible, even to his own most favored 
subjects. Meaning to be very polite, I added that he 
was particularly shy of all embodiments of female love- 
liness. My soft-sawder did not take root, — she was 
more for business than for beauty; she told me she 
expected me to help her, and she also gave me a 
sketch of what I should write to the king, and she 
continued by telling me that she had made the busts 
of many of our generals and congressmen, "and they're 
as good as your (?) king any day," — and she volun- 
teered to show me some of her work that ^I might be 
able to judge for myself of what she was capable of 
doing. 

Of course, I had to promise to write her a letter. 
She called for it next day. She seemed to know my 



MAKING A BUST OF THE KING, 77 

duties even better than I did myself; nevertheless, I 
took the liberty of writing out a form of letter accord- 
ing to my ideas of what was proper — couched in the 
usual courtly phraseology — and for her to sign. 

When I handed her the letter she remarked, " But 
it's not signed yet." No, I told her, she was to sign it. 

The letter being written in German, the lady said, 
"/can't read that, — now tell me what's all that in 
English." I translated it for her and re-handed her 
the letter. 

" Pshaw !" she said, " I could have written such stuff 
myself, — what can I do with such a letter?" 

I told her the letter was hers, and she could make 
what use of it she pleased. 

" Well, then, see here; so much for your letter." And 
she tore it up and scattered it on the floor. 

It is scarcely necessary to add that this lady left the 
consulate less than half satisfied. She had expected 
me to put aside all considerations of the peculiar official 
position which a consul holds towards the head of the 
government to which he is accredited, and to write in 
my own name, and on my own responsibility, an urging 
letter to the king, at the same time puffing her and her 
works as a means to compel him to condescend to her 
wishes. 

A couple of days afterwards, however, the lady had 
the satisfaction of calling at ten o'clock at night, under 
pretence of asking for letters, but in reality to let me 
know that she had gone, after leaving the office, to 
Kaulbach ; that she had been graciously received by 
him ; that she had completely won him over, and that 
he had allowed her a corner of his studio to work in ; 
that she had bought some photographs of the king and 
had succeeded in making a very good bust of him, " no 
thanks to anybody," and that Kaulbach and others 
had praised it very higlily. 

I was completely crushed. 

If ever I should become a great man, I know that 
lady won't make my bust. 

Speaking of Kaulbach calls to my mind the difflcul- 

7^ 



78 CONSULS' TITLES. 

ties which many of our people have in pronouncing his 
name ; it gives them almost as much trouble as it does 
to understand his pictures. Some of them call him 
KoU-batch, and some Coal-bake, and some Call-back. 
His honored name shares the lot of that of another 
eminent painter at Dtisseldorf. An American there 
asked another if he had seen the pictures of Atchen- 
batchy yet. He said, " Never heard of such a man, 
but I have just seen a splendid marine by Ake-and- 
bake." 

But "what's in a name?" There's no more than in 
a title, and the titles a consul gets hurled at him, both 
verbally and by letter, in a non-English speaking coun- 
try, are as varied as they are flattering and amusing. 
Not enough that he is called Honorable and Excellency 
and High Excellency and your Grace, and putting aside 
the ordinary German appendages of well-born and high- 
born and high-well-born, he is often addressed as Con- 
sul and Counsellor and Consulent and Consulship and 
Consulate and Counselage. One of our pensioners, in 
her numerous and lengthy letters, always addressed 
me as "Hih Eggsalenz," and signed herself, "Your 
friend, Mary P ." 

A gentleman once wanting to send me a package, 
asked a public porter if he knew where to take it. 
" Oh, yes," he said, " I know very well where the 
American Sultan lives." 

But not enough that a consul has to put up with 
these things in a serious way, his title is made the sub- 
ject of the jocoseness of airy travellers. One of these, 
who proved to be a "talking man," saluted me with 
"Good-morning, sir. I have just dropped in to have 
a chat with you as a man, and as a consul.'' Another 
rounded off his little joke by saying, " Feeling a little 
disconsolate this morning, I thought I would just stop 
in at the consulate for a little consolation ;" whilst an- 
other, of a funny vein, asked me if I were one of the 
"three per cent, consols." I had to intimate to him 
that his capital of wit was too small for me to take 
any interest in it. 



SAMPLES OF GERMAN-ENGLISH LETTERS. 79 

It is not only the titles that one gets, and the ad- 
dresses on the letters that are funny, but the contents 
of the letters themselves are often equally so, especially 
from persons on this side, who have made the English 
language their study, and who, in trying to write 
elegantly, fish for their words and expressions in the. 
dictionary; sometimes they catch the right ones, and 
sometimes they don't, — oftener the latter. 

The following letter, which was addressed to my 
consulate, will serve as an example : I think it would 
take the prize over all other similar letters which I 
received. It almost reads like the effort of some 
'' funny man" in giving a specimen of "English as she 
is spoke,'' but it is a verbatim copy of a genuine letter. 

"Much Honored United States Consul: 

" You excuse kindly my repeated writing. A long 
while, almost a half-j^ear, I have no account in my case. 
I request you to advertise me how my subject forward 

goes. I have written to Mr. and him sent ten 

florins for his kindly endeavors, and hope he soon give 
me replication to act in this matter. Just now this 

afternoon, is arrived a plenipoteure* from , which 

I do now expedite to you. The determination by the 
Bavarian courts is very long time lastingly, and it shall 
be well if you convince you in own person by the court 
how my thing progresses forwards. It could be, the 
actsf of my cause are mislaying, and cannot be found. 
I beg you to do a walk to make this subject in vogue. 

My lawyer, Mr. , is well knowing in this subject, 

and you can it let read your counsel. But, are done 
pieces in my case already, you might not take ill this 
letter, for I have no peace till is finished my concern, — 
it was me very please if you me favored by some rowsj 
in a few days. 

" With greatest respect, 

" Your submissive 



" P.S. — There I carry fear you should not can the 

* Power of attorney. f Papers. J Lines. 



80 SAMPLES OF GERMAN-ENQLISH LETTERS. 

German language, I take me the liberty you in English 
to write. 

" If you cannot speak or write a sermon in German, 
I have an application made which you only may sign 
and send to the minister." 

In the last sentence the writer evidently got misled 
by the word minister. He found in the dictionary 
that it also means clergyman, and then, looking up the 
German word as the object of his verbs, he found it 
given as discourse ; address; sermon ; and in connection 
with the title minister, he concluded that the most 
elegant English would be to use the word sermon. 

Here is another one, which is almost as good in its 
way ; it was written to a party who had had some 
misunderstanding with a shopkeeper in regard to some 
goods bought of the latter. 

"Mr. — We have received your honoured of the 19th 
and do not mistake perhaps if we think you have bought 
the signed articles (plastique figures) here in Munich, 
and that you do not know never more at which shop. 

" The one hundred and ten pieces Wickelkinder you 
have ordered us (in a caisse K. L. 206) have arrived 

already in the care of Mr. . Mr. gives us 

notice that you will not pay our sending. You have 
taken with you one piece Wickelkinder without paie- 
ment, and you have exactly ordered to send to Mr. 

one hundred and ten pieces Wickelkinder. A 

mistake is not possible, we can you bring six to eight 
witnesses in our shop, and if you not pay immediately 

the sending marks we will go to law (embezzling 

and deceit). If you say you have ordered only at our 
shop plastique figures, so this is a cock and bull story. 
If you say you have paid one Wickelkind to us, so is 
this also a cock and bull story. If you believe you can 
lead us by the nose you are in a mistake. Your letter 
contents only untruths and gainsayings. 

" We will wait upon your paiement till 20th inst.; if 
you not pay the 20th inst. we will tell on you by our 

German Consulate at or by the United States 

Attorney General. Yours, " 



QUEER TITLES IN GERMAN LETTERS. 81 

Some of the letters written by Germans in their own 
language are equally entertaining. Here is one such, 
which I translate freely, not following the German 
construction in order to make it appear outre, but 
giving the spirit of the phrasing as nearly as it is 
possible to do in rendering from one language into 
another : 

*'YouR Excellency, — Encouraged by the distin- 
guished reputation for extreme goodness and philan- 
thropy which glorifies the illustrious name of your 
Excellency, I take the liberty, in view of the late 
threatening reappearance of the Asiatic cholera, most 
submissively to lay before your most high person the 
within communication." (Here follows a description of 
the wonderful results of a new method of treatment in 
cases of cholera and of the medicaments to be used, 
and also a prescription for compounding the same, 
which upon examination by a medical man I found to 
be of no value whatever.) "I take the liberty, there- 
fore, submissively to beg your Excellency to transmit 
the enclosed prescription, with directions for use, to his 
Excellency Mr. the President of the United States of 
America, for his most exalted personal use, and sign 
with deepest veneration, your Excellency's obedient, 

"Severin Biegenstock, 
'^Country Doctor and Accoucheur^ 

Another letter is addressed to "Most Illustrious, 
most serene, highborn, gracious Consul and mighty 
President of America," — a long letter all in the above 
style about a brother who had been a tailor in the 
United States, became a forger and was imprisoned ; 
and the writer now wants the consul and the Pres- 
ident to set his brother free ; his aged mother begs on 
her knees to have her praj^er heard, and looks to the 
consul as the savior of her child, etc. 

A poor man who had served in our late war wrote 
in regard to my making an application for him for a 
pension. Ho had got the largest sheet of paper pro- 

/ 



82 BEGGING LETTERS. 

curable — like a mortgage form — and the heading was 
engrossed in letters nearly an inch high, "To His 
Eksilence Our Most Gracious American Consuldad in 
Munich." 

« 

A woman in the south of Bavaria, in the very black- 
est part of the Ultramontane district, who was in great 
distress, bombarded me with long letters in a matter 
in which I could be of no assistance to her. It was 
always ''with weeping and groaning" that she "seized 
her pen" to write to me, and she promised each time 
to pray for me, and my wife and my children, if* I 
would only help her. In order to make her letters still 
more efficacious, she sometimes pasted little pictures of 
saints at the bottom of the last page, as if it were the 
seal of her faith, — as if she thought her favorite saint 
must help her if the consul couldn't. 

That a consul is in constant receipt of begging 
letters it is scarcely necessary to say, and their recitals 
of distress are depressing enough ; but these letters 
are scarcely more formidable than another, quite dif- 
ferent, class of letters written by people who are not 
in distress at all, but who, on the contrary, are enjoying 
themselves, and in their charitable spirit want to in- 
oculate others with their joy in the shape of epistles, — 
people who write because they are so fond of writing, 
even when they have nothing to say. 

I used to think that the long letters written by char- 
acters in novels, and so beautifully composed, were 
most unnatural things. Nobody ever writes such let- 
ters in real life, thought I, — going in for such apt quo- 
tations, such striking similes, such fine, descriptive 
painting. I was mistaken. I have letters, especially 
from ladies, which would, if printed, fill four or five 
book pages (which is the general length of a novel 
letter), and so precisely worded and sentenced, — with 
here and there a piece of very innocent (sometimes 
aged) pleasantry, — that they might serve as models for 
the letter which is spun out to take the place of a 
chapter in the most creeping romance. Then, too, 
these cheering writers mix up a great many French 



THE CONSUL A LITTLE POSTMASTER. 83 

and German and Italian phrases in their epistles, to 
show the extent of their travels and the linguistic 
profit they have derived from them; often, too, they 
write in a moralizing strain as if the consul were an 
intimate school friend of theirs. 

One of the most rounded letters (but here the writer 
really wanted something, and therefore his letter had 
a humane object) began thus: ''I don't intend to treat 
you like a fish, by merely dropping you a line, but like 
a king, by sending you a couple of pages. But speak- 
ing of fish naturally suggests water, and this is what I 
want to tell you. Water is coming down all around 
me as if it would never stop. I am completely hemmed 
in by it. The mountains are so completely veiled by 
the sheets of pouring rain that they might as well not 
be there, for all I can see of them." 

The writer then goes on conscientiously to fulfil his 
promise, and I turn over leaf after leaf of narrations of 
his summer experiences; of what luck he had had in 
sport, and of how his sympathies were with gentle Isaak 
Walton ; and the upshot of the matter, which came at 
the very end (like the worm), was that the gentleman 
requested the consul to get a certain number of certain 
numbered fish-hooks for him, and send them to him by 
post. 

It is the custom of many travelling Americans to 
have all their mail-matter addressed to the care of the 
various consulates. They call for their letters or 
papers in person, or expect the consul to re-mail them 
to them, so that the consul becomes, in a way, quite a 
little postmaster. Our instructions are, to retain all 
letters not called for for six months, and then to return 
them on the first of January and first of July of each 
year to the Dead Letter Office at Washington. If this 
instruction is not complied with, such unclaimed letters 
accumulate in great numbers. One of our consuls on 
taking charge of the office at Liverpool sent nearly 
three thousand letters to Washington, which his pre- 
decessor had neglected returning semi-annually during 
his administration. 



84 " TRY MUNICH.'' 

It certainly does not make much extra work for a 
consul to attend to the delivering of such letters. If 
parties call for them at his office, he hands their mail 
to them, or if they want it re-directed, it is but a trifle 
to cross out the name of the city and write another in 
its place and return it to the post-office. 

The most trying affair connected with these post- 
office duties was the receipt of telegrams, often coming 
at the dead of night, as if they were the messengers of 
some great calamity or of some momentous family oc- 
currence, and which, when tremblingly opened, dis- 
closed the important order, — " Send letters to Paris (or 
some other place), care of consul.'* I had to put a stop 
to these nightly'disturbances, by ordering the telegraph 
officers not to forward such messages except between 
six in the morning and eight in the evening, for it was 
too trying to the nerves to be roughly roused from one's 
slumbers on an average four times a week for the 
benefit of one's countrymen. 

In the height of the season my little post-office often 
received from twenty to thirty letters and papers a day 
for distribution and re-mailing. 

A letter once came ft*om the United States directed 

to " Mr. , Munich." The writer had only put a 

three-cent stamp on it, so the postmaster at the place of 
mailing supposed it to be a home letter. I do not know 
that we have any post-office town in the United States 
by the name of Munich, but there are many others 
that have names similar to it, and which, if the address 
be indistinctly written, might be mistaken for it. Now, 
that letter had been skimming along from one end of 
the Union to the other without finding a resting-place. 
At seven or eight places the postmaster had endorsed 
on it " not known" — " not here" — " undeliverable," etc. 
After knocking around various States and Territories, 
and no one appearing to claim it, one fellow at last — 
smarter than the rest — wrote across it in big letters, 
with a blue pencil, " Try Europe.'' His advice was 
taken ; they tried Europe ; the letter reached its desti- 
nation ; the recipient was in exultation. 



A DEAD LETTER, 85 

Speaking of dead letters reminds me of a case that 
had a serio-comic aspect. 

A Munich woman of the middle class came in, hold- 
ing a letter in her hand. She began by telling me that 
her husband had left her a couple of years ago and had 
gone to the United States ; that she had not heard 
from him since ; that he had treated her very badly 
and that she didn't care anything for him, but that it 
had come to her ears that he had made a good deal of 
money over there, and she now wanted me to procure 
her a mortuary certificate, that she might be able to 
prove his death to the court here; and finall}^, that she 
had a good chance of marrying again, and that the 
money he left would come in very nicely for her outfit. 

I asked her what notice she had received of his 
death. She said she had written to him last some 
months ago (a registered letter), and that now it had 
come back to her with the word dead upon it, which a 
friend of hers had translated for her. She was so 
exultant at being free again that it was almost a pain- 
ful duty for me, as I took the letter from her hand, to 
explain that that was the expressive mark with us for 
an undeliverable letter, and that it was not her husband 
that was dead, but only the letter. She was quite 
crestfallen as she went away, and her face took nearly 
the expression it ought to have taken if she had really 
lost her spouse. 

A letter once came late in the evening. It was an 
express letter; that is, it was delivered by a special 
carrier at the moment of arrival by train, and therefore 
was a letter of importance. I was just about going to 
bed, but I knew the letter was from somebody wanting 
something very badly, or he would not have been in 
such a hurry about it ; so I opened it quakingly. 

1 was prepared for something serious, but not for 
what the letter really contained, and the announcement 
II ade me stagger. 

It was a small sheet of note-paper, written upon in a 
straggling hand, commencing nearly at the middle of 
the page, so that there was only room for a few words 

8 



86 A STARTLING LETTER, 

on it, but those words were appalling, — they nearly 
took my breath away ; they were as follows : 

"• Sir : I have to be executed here to-morrow in the pres- 
ence of a United States Consul'' 

Good heavens! I thought, and here at the last 
minute only the poor wretch has been able to send me 
these few lines. 

I was not sufficiently calm to consider that even in 
such an extremity of a delinquent countryman my 
complying with his last wish (for such I deemed it to 
be) was not imperatively binding on me, — that, after 
all, such a thing was entirely out of my line ; my only 
thought was, '^ too late, too late." I had not read 
anything in the papers of any American having been 
sentenced to death ; I was disturbed to think how such 
a thing could happen without my having heard of it 
sooner. Perhaps this was a judicial murder perpetrated 
against a helpless foreigner, and no chance had been 
given him to communicate with the representatives of 
his countr}^ 

I turned over the page to see who the unfortunate 
man was, and what he had done; and then my doubts 
were solved. 

The man had been guilty of nothing worse than bad 
grammar^ showing total depravity in regard to his dis- 
regard of punctuation, and an unexampled reckless- 
ness in writing such momentous words just at the 
bottom of a page, which could only be explained by 
turning over the leaf My mind was relieved to find 
that it was not a human being, a fellow-countryman 
that was to be executed, but only a power of attorney. 
The whole sentence read thus : " I have to be executed 
here to-morrow in the presence of a United States 
Consul a power of attorney and not being able to 
come to Munich I request you to come at once to me 
I will pay your fare and make it all right with you, 
etc." 

I did not go, of course, and lost the pleasure of see- 
ing that man, but I shall never forgive him for the cold 
perspiration he threw me into. 



CAPITAL PUNISHMENT. 87 



CHAPTEE YI. 

The guillotine — Hanging — Best method of inflicting capital punishment 
— Last execution by sword in Munich — Public execution by guillotine 
— History of the guillotine — Plea for other method than hanging — Exe- 
cutions should not be public — Can a clergyman vote or hold oflSce? — 
** I was ever of opinion :" subject of a bet — A letter of Washington — 
Two Barons Washington living in Bavaria — Washington's letter — 
James Washington — Our flag : its origin — Our flag : when displayed — 
Our flag has further uses : Fourth of July speeches. 

I don't know whether any of my readers have ever 
seen a man hanged. I never have. We are told that 
it is an easy death; perhaps it is; but we are always 
told this by people who have never tried it. Marwood 
expatiates on the superiority of hanging over every 
other form of violent death. 

As long as capital punishment exists, it is certainly 
the duty of law-makers to provide, in this enlightened 
age, that the manner of execution should be such as 
produces death as quickly as possible, and without any 
unnecessary application of cruelty. The death-penalty 
is no longer to be regarded as a torture, its object is 
simply to put a dangerous subject out of the way, and 
to act as a deterrent against the heinous crime of mur- 
der. In our country, where we go in for labor-saving 
machinery and modern improvements to a greater ex- 
tent than anywhere else, it is a wonder that we still 
cling to this primitive method of execution. Then 
again, when we reflect how bungling the working of 
the gallows often is ; how often the best of rope breaks, 
and how often the knot is unscientifically fixed, leaving 
the victim dangling for dear life, sometimes for half an 
hour before he is cut down, it certainly suggests to our 
understanding that some more humane, some less re- 
pulsive method should be adopted. 

" They order these things better in France,*' and in 
Bavaria too. Up to near the middle of the present 
century the mode of execution hero was by the sword. 



88 PUBLIC EXECUTION BY GUILLOTINE, 

They had a capital swordsman at Munich who was un- 
failing, and always severed the head from the body 
with a single blow. The last time he was called upon 
to exercise his grim function he drank, as usual, to get 
his courage up, but it appears he just overstepped the 
mark, and it was noticed that when he ascended the 
scaffold he was a little shaky. He swung his great 
two-handed sword with a whirring sweep, but he missed 
his aim, and only hacked his victim. This unexpected 
failure made him nervous and excited ; he plied his 
weapon again and again, and it is said he cut seven 
times before the head was at last severed from the 
body. It was a sickening sight; the public was in- 
censed, and hooted the man from the scaifold. 

Execution by the sword was then done away with, 
and the guillotine was introduced, and is still used in 
all Bavaria. 

I have been led to this subject from having once been 
called on by some State board of prisons to furnish it 
with statistics, pointing to the question as to whether 
the abolition of capital punishment has a tendency to 
the reduction of capital crimes or not. It wanted me 
to see how the guillotine works, and to state whether 
it is a humane means of executing capital punishment 
or not. 

Till about twenty years ago the executions in Bava- 
ria were public; those at Munich were held on the 
Marsfeld, the military exercising ground, just on the 
northwestern outskirt of the city. They took place 
early in the morning, just after daybreak. The cul- 
prit was driven from the prison at the southern end of 
the city to the scaffold in an open two-horse wagon, 
something like a hay-wagon, and painted a dull blue. 
He was habited in a dark blue or almost black gown, 
bare-headed (the hair being cropped short, so as not to 
interfere with the cutting of the knife), and with a black 
board hanging on his breast, on which was painted in 
large white letters "/or murder.'' His limbs were free, 
but he was sandwiched in between two gens d'armcs, 
each carrying his loaded and bayoneted musket, — these 
three riding backwards. Opposite them sat a priest 



PUBLIC EXECUTION BY GUILLOTINE. 89 

with book in hand, mumbling prayers as they jogged 
along. The driver sat on one of the horses. As the 
distance from the prison to the place of execution was 
great, and the wagon went at a funeral pace, the poor 
wretch had ample time to take his last look at life and 
activity and freedom for others, and to be stared at by 
the crowds that lined the streets. Brought out sud- 
denly from his lonesome cell where he had been con- 
fined for weeks, he was once again shown the stirring 
world that he would soon be snatched away from for- 
ever. This doleful procession always seemed to me 
particularly cruel, — a refinement of the tortures of 
Tantalus. The doomed man saw the swarms of peo- 
ple that were free to move about at will ; he saw the 
faces at windows expressing the consciousness of the 
security of their homes; he saw young children, quite 
innocent of the meaning of crime, and he knew that 
all had turned out to gaze upon him as some mysteri- 
ous monster, uncomprehended by them, without sym- 
pathy from them, and feeling that no human link 
bound him to them. He knew that in a few short 
minutes that crowd would scatter to its usual occupa- 
tions, each knowing what was before him, while he 
would be launched into that unknown region so full 
of awful mystery, and having no assurance in his 
breast (now branded with the title of his crime) that 
he had obtained that forgivenness which is beyond the 
power of earthly judges. 

Was it to be wondered at, then, that at that chill 
morning hour the murderer often trembled visibly, 
while his face showed pallid as if the blood bad already 
left the body. 

As the place of execution was neared the crowd grew 
denser and denser, and as the view of the field opened 
on one, one saw an immense multitude and heard the 
suppressed hum of thousands of voices. The gentler 
sex was not wanting among the spectators, and even 
numbers of children were there. Old women hawked 
programmes of the show, containing a narrative of the 
crime from beginning to end, and generally embellished 
with a rude wood-cut of the delinquent. In the centre 

8* 



90 PUBLIC EXECUTION BV GUILLOTINE. 

of that black and swaying mass stood the scaffold, a 
platform about fifteen feet square and ten feet high, 
hung all round with dark red cloth, and surmounted 
w^ith a wooden railing. On each of the four sides was 
drawn up a compact line of cuirassiers with their horses 
breasting the scaffold, their shining helmets looking 
like a row of big brass-headed nails garnishing some 
huge piece of upholstery. A little farther off a couple 
of companies of infantry were posted. 

From the top of the platform, and about at its centre, 
rose two parallel bars, not more than nine or ten feet 
high and perhaps twelve or fifteen inches apart. At 
the upper end was suspended the knife, a bright bit of 
steel, like a big cleaver, heavily loaded, and the blade 
not horizontal, but diagonal. One would scarcel}'- have 
taken it for an instrument of death, — it looked like 
some neat but unknown agricultural implement. 

Arrived at the scaffold, the delinquent was taken in- 
side (an opening of the red drapery allowing a passage, 
which was immediately closed again by its falling to- 
gether). The executioner was within, and also some 
officers of the law. A small provisional altar was 
erected, — with crucifix and candles, — and there, out of 
sight of the people around, the last religious services 
were performed. The prisoner was then blindfolded 
and pinioned, and was led forth to ascend the steps of 
the platform. The executioner and a jailer preceded 
him, whilst the priest guided him, and a couple of 
prison officers followed. On arriving at the top, a few 
paces brought the criminal to an upright board, which 
reached to about his breast, having a small foot-board 
to stand on. A leather strap was quickly buckled 
across the small of the back, another over the ankles; 
the board was tilted over to a horizontal position, slid 
forward, until the head, with the face downwards, pro- 
jected between and beyond the parallel bars; a board 
with a semicircular cut in it to fit the neck was let 
down to keep the head in place, and at the same 
moment a spring was touched, and down came the knife 
with a heavy thud, and the head had fallen into a 
basket at the end of the machine. Scarcely any move- 



HISTORY OF THE GUILLOTINE. 91 

ment of the body could be detected afterwards, — per- 
haps a slight quiver, — but it was only momentary ; the 
blood was seen pouring in a thick stream from the 
neck. As soon as the head was severed, the execu- 
tioner removed the black bandage from the eyes, and 
clutching the head by the hair (which had been left a 
little longer on the top for that purpose), held it up at 
arm^s length for a few seconds to show it to the public ; 
it looked like a head of chalk, so white was it. Body 
and head were quickly put into a coffin, standing ready, 
and all was over. The crowed dispersed, leaving only 
a few officers to superintend the workmen, who imme- 
diately removed the instrument and the scaffold. 

From the moment the prisoner commenced ascending 
the steps of the scaffold until the knife fell I do not 
think more than forty seconds elapsed. Death seems 
to be instantaneous. 

I saw several such executions at Munich : they were 
during my student days. 

The guillotine is not by any means a modern inven- 
tion. In old times it was used in almost all countries. 
It is said to have been first used in Persia. In Italy, 
it has been the privilege of the nobility, when sen- 
tenced to death, to suffer the penalty by that method 
in preference to others that were less expeditious and 
more cruel. A wood-cut of Lucas Cranach, of the six- 
teenth century, shows an execution by means of an in- 
strument quite identical with the present form of the 
guillotine, except that the prisoner is in a kneeling 
position instead of lying with the back upwards. Al- 
degrever and Penz, the latter a scholar of Albrecht 
Diirer, in wood-cuts with the date 1553, show the same 
form of execution, thus proving that it was in vogue in 
Germany also at that time. The instrument was called 
in Germany the dolabra, — in Italy, the mannaia. Dr. 
Guillotin, from whom it takes its present name, merely 
suggested, as a member of the National Assembly in 
1789, that in future executions no distinction in the 
method should be made (where the death-Hcnlence 
should be passed) in regard to persons, or in regard to 
the nature of the crime, and he recommended that 



92 EXECUTIONS SHOULD NOT BE PUBLIC. 

some instrument should be introduced that would work 
more quickly and reliably than the usual manipulation 
of the executioner of those days. 

It was in the year 1791, when the debates upon the 
penal laws were again taken up, that one of the mem- 
bers brought in a motion that decapitation should be 
the only form of the death-penalty. Dr. Antoine Louis, 
secretary of the college of surgeons, was called on to 
make a scientific report as to which was the most 
humane manner of decapitation. He favored the in- 
troduction of an instrument similar to those which in 
former generations had been in use in England. A 
model was made which received the approval of the 
General Assembly, and in the year 1792 the instru- 
ment which was afterwards destined to play such a 
frightfully conspicuous part in French history received 
its first victim. 

As I was called upon, as before stated, to give my 
views as to whether death by the guillotine were a 
humane way of inflicting capital punishment or not, I 
could not help stating that, as far as my limited exper- 
ience in such things went, it appeared to me the best 
method of any I had ever read or heard of. 

I know that this is a very horrible and bloody sub- 
ject to write about, and to have a place in such a book 
as this, but one should never neglect making an effort 
(be it ever so humble) to further a good cause, when- 
ever an opportunity presents itself As long as we 
have capital punishment for the greatest of crimes, 
would it not be well to consider, at least, whether it 
would not be more becoming to us as a nation to adopt 
the most merciful and expeditious form, instead of 
holding on to the bungling system of hanging, which 
oftentimes, in its inefficiency in producing death quickly, 
gives rise to the most revolting spectacles and inflicts 
tortures on the unhappy victim smacking of the taste 
of the dark ages, but not compatible with the views of 
justice of the present enlightened times? 

Above all, let not executions be public entertain- 
ments. The public must be satisfied with knowing 



CAN A CLERGYMAN VOTE? 93 

that the last penalty of the law has been properly- 
applied, and this can be amply testified to by the gov- 
ernment officers and the medical men who are present. 
The witnessing an execution has no deterring effect on 
the crowd ; on the contrary, the culprit who is allowed 
to make maudlin speeches on the scaffold, and has the 
satisfaction of seeing that such a stir is made about 
him, is often looked up to as quite a hero, and many a 
would-be murderer has what little conscience he pos- 
sesses smoothed by the thought that even if caught 
and sentenced, he still remains a person of distinction 
in the eyes of thousands of the brutal crowd that 
honors him with its presence. 

From the moment a man is found guilty of the crime 
of murder he should be isolated from the outer world. 
The public should have no knowledge of his doings or 
his sayings or of his situation afterwards, except what is 
actually necessary to convince it that the ends of justice 
have been strictly and lawfully carried out. The public 
should not be allowed to hold any intercourse with such 
a being. The disgusting scenes which took place in 
the cell of one of our most infamous murderers, and 
the equally disgusting accounts of them published for 
the benefit of all who, on account of absence from the 
place, were not so favored as to have a personal inter- 
view with him, certainly threw a very bad light on our 
" institutions" in the eyes of all intelligent foreigners, 
and it was very hard work to tiy, for the honor of our 
country, to explain the same to them in a mollifying 
manner. 

A blacksmith at Straubing on the "beautiful blue 
Danube," who was perhaps a learned blacksmith like 
another of his profession before him, and seems to have 
hammered at other things besides his anvil, wrote me 
an express letter wanting an immediate answer, begging 
me to tell him whether, in the United States, a clergy- 
man of any sect, even if ho be a citizen, can vote or 
hold office. "It is the subject of a wager," ho con- 
cludes. 

On another occasion two Germans, one a fat, per- 



94 A LETTER OF WASHINGTON. 

spiry fellow and the other a young, dirty little chap 
who looked as if he might be a tailor's apprentice, came 
in to have me decide a bet between them on the cor- 
rectness of the opening sentence in Goldsmith's "Vicar 
of Wakefield" : " I was ever of opinion," etc. 

Young apprentice maintained it was classic English ; 
fat man said he had " lifed a goot many yearce in Am- 
mariky and knew Inklish shust as goot as Sherman," 
and contended that the expression was not correct 
grammar. 

I asked him what was the matter with it. He said 
it ought to be " I alwace wuss of de opinion." 

They seemed to me to be members of some English 
circle or debating club or something of that kind. My 
decision, in which, of course, I took poor Goldsmith's 
part, did not appear to settle their bet, for they went 
over the yard in a loud quarrel with each other. Be- 
fore leaving, however, the big man wanted to pay me, 
— he " wanted to do de right ting, you know." 

A LETTER OF WASHIJSTGTOK 

Everything relating to Washington must have an 
interest for all true Americans. It may surprise many 
to learn that there are two brothers, Baron Max 
Washington and Baron Carl Washington, evidently 
descended from the same stock as our first President, 
living in Bavaria. 

Baron Max Washington once showed me a letter 
addressed to his father, written by George Washington 
in 1799, — in the last year of his life. This letter* will 
be new to most of my readers. When shown to me it 
had just been discovered among the private papers of 
the late James Washington, the father of the present 
Barons Washington, and had narrowly escaped being 
destroyed, being among other old letters which seemed 
to have no further value. 

The above James Washington was born at the Hague, 

* With the kind permission of Baron Washington, I published this 
letter in the ** American Register" of Paris, in April, 1878. 



WASHINGTON'S LETTER. 95 

January 26, 1778. He entered the Dutch service in 
1794, which he left the following year and went to 
Germany, where he lived as a refugee. He entered the 
Bavarian army in 1803, was adjutant to the Crown 
Prince (afterwards Louis I.) of Bavaria; was sub- 
sequently colonel ; was sent to the headquarters of 
Wellington at Waterloo as Bavarian Minister, and 
entered Paris with the Duke. He was adjutant to 
King Maximilian Joseph, of Bavaria, in 1821, and was 
afterwards adjutant-general to King Louis. 

It seems that this James Washington, when about 
twenty- one years of age, wrote to his great namesake 
in America in reference to his genealogy, and inquir- 
ing whether he could get an appointment in the United 
States army. Washington's letter is in answer to this, 
and is as follows : 

"Mount Vernon (in Virginia), 
"20tli of January, 1799. 

"Sir, — Through the goodness of Mr. Adams, the 
American Minister at Berlin, I am indebted for the 
safe conveyance of your Letter, dated the 19th of Oc- 
tober, in that city ; and through the same medium I 
have the honour to present this acknowledgment of it. 

" There can be but little doubt, Sir, of our descending 
from the same stock, as the branches of it proceeded 
from the same country. At what time your Ancestors 
left England is not mentioned. Mine came over to 
America nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. 

" The regular course of application for Military ap- 
pointments is to the President of the United States 
through the Secretary of War. But it would be de- 
ception not to apprise you beforehand that it does not 
accord with the policy of this Government to bestow 
offices — civil or military — upon Foreigners to the ex- 
clusion of our own citizens. First, because there is an 
animated zeal in the latter to serve their country; and, 
secondly, because the former, seldom satisfied with the 
Rank they sustained in the service of their own coun- 
try, look ibr higher aj^pointments in this — whicli when 
bestowed — unless there is obvious cause to justily the 
measure, is pregnant with discontent — and, therefore, 



96 JAMES WASHINGTON. 

18 not often practised, except in those branches of the 
Military service which relate to Engineering and Gun- 
nery, for in these our military establishment is de- 
fective, and men of known and acknowledged abilities, 
with ample Testimonials thereof, would be certainly 
encouraged. 

^' Deeming it better to give this candid detail than 
to raise hopes that might prove fallacious — is the best 
apology that I can offer for my plain dealing. At the 
same time, be pleased to accept assurances of my being, 
Sir, your most obedient and humble Servant, 

" G. Washington. 

''Mr. James Washington." 

I have seen many of Washington's letters, and I 
possess fac-similes of his handwriting, with which I 
compared the present letter; there cannot be the least 
doubt of its genuineness. The style is eminently char- 
acteristic of the open, straightforward, conscientious 
manner of Washington. The favorite use of the dash, 
and the writing of the principal nouns and adjectives 
with a capital letter, are in accordance with the fashion 
of that time. The seal on the folded letter bears the 
well-known device which Washington also used as a 
book-plate, — a shield with three five-pointed stars and 
two horizontal red bars, with the motto " Exitus acta 
prohaty 

The great-grandfather of James Washington was 
also named James. He was obliged to fly from Eng- 
land in 1685, during the civil wars in the reign of 
Charles the Second. He was shipwrecked on the coast 
of Portugal, and thus lost what little personal prop- 
erty he had been able to carry with him from Eng- 
land. From Portugal he wandered to Holland, where 
he engaged in trade. England tried several times in 
vain to effect his extradition. This James Washington 
was the progenitor of the present Washington family 
in Bavaria. 

In an old family Bible belonging to a Mr. Keurenaer 
at the Hague (who married a Miss Washington) the 
following note is inscribed : 



OUR FLAG. 97 

"James Washington left England about the middle 
of the seventeenth century, when the country was dis- 
turbed by civil wars ; he came to Holland, and set- 
tled at Eotterdam. His brother went to the English 
colonies in America, settled there as a planter, and was 
the grandfather of the founder of the American Union, 
— George Washington." 

The fullest and most authentic papers on the subject 
of Washington which we have at home are those pre- 
served at the State Department. In the genealogy of 
Washington there given, based upon the statements 
made by the Garter of the College of Arms at London 
in 1796, and as given by Washington himself from the 
period of the emigration of John and Lawrence Washing- 
ton to the United States about the year 1657, the name 
of James does not appear. Yet it is significant that 
the arms of the Washington family in Bavaria are 
identical with those of our Washington. 

Our flag, in its present form, was likely enough sug- 
gested by the arms of Washington ; indeed, it is proved 
by some people that it really was so suggested. Dur- 
ing the Revolution we had no established device for our 
flag, for it went through various alterations and modi- 
fications for a long time, and it was only at the first 
session of the Third Congress (on the 13th of January, 
1794) that a law w^as passed " that from and after the 
first day of May, Anno Domini one thousand seven 
hundred and ninety-five, the flag of the United States 
be fifteen stripes, alternate red and white. That the 
Union be fifteen stars, white in a blue field." 

If our stars were taken from Washington's arms, it 
must be remarked that originally those five-pointed 
figures so called were not stars at all, but, in the lan- 
guage of heraldry, mullets^ or spur rowels. Stars were 
quite difl'crently represented. 

By the act of April 4, 1818, the following provision 
is made relating to our flag: " That from and after the 
Fourth of July next (July 4, 1818) the flag of the 
United States be thirteen horizontal stripes, alternately 
red and white; that fhe Union bo twenty stars, white 
V' 9 9 



98 OUR FLAG. 

in a blue field ; that on the admission of any new State 
into the Union, one star be added to the union of the 
flag; and that such addition shall take effect on the 
fourth day of July then next ensuing.'^ 

Since that day we have gone on industriously adding 
star by star till we have nearly doubled them. When 
our immense Territories get chopped up into smaller 
States, as they eventually will be, it is hard to tell how 
we will crowd in all the stars. There will be little of 
the blue left. Our armorial firmament will become a 
regular milky-way. 

At seaport consulates the flag is generally hoisted 
daily over the oflice roof, but in inland places it only 
gets a regular airing on Washington's birthday and the 
Fourth of July. 

On some sad occasions it has been our painful duty 
to display it heavily draped with crape, as a symbol of 
mourning over some great loss our country has sus- 
tained. 

Eut of course our flag has further uses still. If not 
oftener, it is at least certain once a year to lend its 
folds '' to print a moral or adorn a tale," for no Fourth 
of July oration is complete without an allusion to it ; 
and here an example : " Our eagle is a big and glorious 
bird, gentlemen, and spreads his wings over a continent, 
— aye, and farther yet. Even in this remote city, so 
many leagues from the seat and centre of freedom, one 
of his bright feathers may even now be seen floating 
in the air." This referred to the flag hanging out at 
the consulate. I think the explanation is necessary. 



THE AMERICAN EAGLE. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Consul like the American eagle — American eagle: its origin — Our arms 
— Eag]e on the coinage — What our eagle looks like — Consular arras 
furnished by the Department — President of Ornithological Society — 
Sign of a poultry dealer — The " Adlerwirth" — State arms — Hunting 
up family arms — Hunting up genealogies — Smith family — Hunting up 
lost trunks — So many lost trunks — Two American ladies lose trunks — 
Railroad director loses trunks — Wants to sue the company — Trunks at 
forwarding agenVs — Wanting consul to call on Sunday — Cases where 
consul must go to parties — Attacking the consul at the opera — Engag- 
ing rooms — Meeting lady with baby and nurses-Travelling compan- 
ions for ladies — Such requests not from acquaintances — Consul to bar- 
gain for a painting — Newspapers received in a torn state — Work on 
Faust: no old fogy — Bill of glassware: where's the punch-bowl? — 
Consul to collect debts — Young Americans not writing home — To hunt 
up a sister — Wanting situations as clerks, etc. — Wanted, an artist to 
show strangers around the galleries — Tramps — Free railroad tickets — 
Tickets to New York, to Milan — Shooting the judge at Thulba — Vio- 
lent sailor — French woman with baby — Parties coming in the evening 
to private lodging — Even tramps not the most formidable people — 
Making a living time-table of the consul — Armed with a circular let- 
ter of introduction — Putting one's knowledge of geography to the test 
— Which is the best route to Suez ? — First class from Munich to Verona 
— When do trains leave Munich for Paris ? 

" I HAVE come to invoke the protection of the Ameri- 
can Eagle." 

Travellers in difficulty are fond of pictorially alluding 
to the consul as the American Eagle. They do not 
know with what bitter truth they apply those trito 
words. 

The consul is like that symbolic bird : he has both 
hands full; upon his breast, hung by a chain around 
bis neck, is a heavy shield ; but it is more like a clog, — 
a heavy load of responsibilities, — ^^just glazed over with 
a thin coating of blue and red and gold to blazon the 
honor of his position ; but he has, alas, nothing to cover 
his back with but the few feathers that Congress with 
a niggardly hand allows him. Gazed u]) to from below, 
ho looks like a bright constellation of authority and 
power, — a mass of glittering color, — but lookc^l down 



100 OUR ARMS. 

on from above, and more closely, he is found to be a 
very dusty brown indeed. 

At the time our "American Eagle" was invented 
heraldry had fallen into disuse, because there was really 
no occasion for it any more. Every man who was 
anybody was able to write his name, so his signet-ring 
became a mere ornamental appendage, and, as his face 
was not covered with a visor, but beardlessly displayed 
beneath a cocked or a bell-crowned hat, it was not neces- 
sary for him to have his arms painted or embossed or 
embroidered on his shield as a means of identification, 
as it formerly was for the knight, in order that people 
might know who it was that was concealed within the 
sweat-producing armor. 

In heraldry, the drawings of animals (which were 
the favorite emblems) not being made by artists of the 
first rank, were obviously very crude ; but this very 
crudeness of drawing soon began to have an established 
meaning, and each distorted position and each grimace 
denoted some quality of the person, or had reference 
to some of his acts. 

When our young colonies, in adopting many of the 
usages of the older countries, thought it necessary or 
proper to have an " arms" also, the eagle was decided 
upon as being the most appropriate animal to symbolize 
our independence and freedom ; yet I find no mention 
made either in our Articles of Confederation or in our 
Constitution or in our statutes of such a symbol being 
ever legally recognized by us. In fact, the word " arms" 
does not occur at all, although it is in common use with 
our people. 

In the act of September 15, 1789 (First Congress, first 
session), it says, "And be it further enacted, that the 
seal heretofore used b}' the United States in Congress 
assembled, shall be, and hereby is declared to be, the 
seal of the United States," — but what that seal is it 
nowhere says. The only reference to the eagle is in 
the acts relating to our coinage. In the eighteenth 
section of the law of February 12, 1873, it says, " Upon 
the coins there shall be the following devices and 



WHAT OUR EAGLE LOOKS LIKE. IQl 

legends: upon one side there shall be an impression 
emblematic of liberty, with an inscription of the word 
* Liberty' and the year of the coinage, and on the 
reverse shall be the figure or representation of an 
eagle, with the inscription 'United States of America,' 
and 'E Pluribus Unum,' " etc. 

In what way soever our eagle originated, he didn't 
arise from his ashes like the phoenix, but started up a 
brand-new bird, untortured with any heraldic angular- 
ities, and in all the fulness of realistic splendor that a 
bad draughtsman was capable of giving him. Some- 
times he is chub-headed, with wings like a new-fledged 
chicken, — sometimes humpbacked, and mostly straddle- 
legged ; sometimes he has the pert squint, the knowing 
look of an old raven, and sometimes he looks like a 
drowned rat. He has no established position. The 
only thing that is a settled matter is, that he must 
have a ribbon floating from his beak bearing the motto 
E Pluribus Unum, and that he must have one talon 
full of arrows and the other clutching a sprig of laurel, 
the meaning of which is, that he is ready to off'er you 
peace or war, just as you please. But the most playful 
part of his panoply is the shield, over which he has 
complete control, for he can do what he wants to with 
it. Sometimes he wears it strung around his neck, 
and sometimes plastered over his breast. But some- 
times he takes it ofl^, and uses it as a table to stand 
upon and peck his food from ; sometimes he stands it 
up perpendicularly and roosts upon its edge, and some- 
times he has it resting upon a dirty piece of cloud and 
is sportively tilting it over with his foot, and sometimes 
the poor fellow is spread out behind the shield stretch- 
ing out all fours as if he were prepared for a barbecue. 

In the Consular Regulations it speaks of the " Con- 
sular Arms," which are to be displayed over the door 
of the office. The Department of State furnishes such 
arms to the various consulates. It sends to each a 
painted piece of sheet-iron in a gilded oval frame, lull 
of gay colors, which is quite a curiosity as a work of 
art, and, from a scientific point of view, leaves ample 
room for speculation in the mind of the beholder as to 

9* 



102 THE CONSULAR ARMS. 

the genus and species of the animal intended to be 
represented. 

No wonder that a grave-looking person once came 
into the office to inquire as to the best kind of seed for 
a certain kind of fowl. He soon apologized, however, — 
he thought mine was the office of the Ornithological 
Society, and he took me, I suppose, for its president. 

A music teacher whom I had for my children told 
them that the first time he saw the arms over the door 
from the other side of the street (" before he had the 
honor of our acquaintance") he thought it was the 
sign of a poultry dealer. 

The landlord of the house in which the consulate 
Tvas situated for several years was a large, portly man, 
and was fond of standing in the little front garden, his 
head garnished with a showy smoking-cap ; his well- 
fed figure in connection with the sign outside soon 
procured him in the neighborhood the appellation of 
the Adlerwirth, — the host of the Eagle. 

Each of our States has its arms, the devices being 
mostly of a very realistic nature. Michigan has in ad- 
dition a crest, in the shape of a tin helmet, belonging 
to no particular period, and not meaning anything in 
particular, — or if it does, its meaning must be known 
best to those who made it. 

There are a great many persons in our republican 
country who have a hankering after arms. 1 was 
called upon on several occasions to hunt up the arms 
of families whose ancestors came from Bavaria. The 
Eoyal Library furnished me with the necessary works 
on genealog}" and heraldry, and in a few cases I was able 
to rejoice my correspondents by sending them a draw- 
ing of the coveted arms, which I suppose they soon 
had painted on tbeir carriage doors, stamped on all 
their plate, and worked into all their linen. 

A more innocent pursuit than hunting up arms is 
that of hunting up genealogies. It is not every one 



HUNTING UP LOST TRUNKS, 103 

that has arms, but everybody has ancestors. The 
hunting up of these worthies in 'old church registers is 
pretty troublesome work. I generally emplo3'ed some 
poor parson to do this, making the applicants pay for 
the labor. One case came quite expensive on account 
of the great mass of investigation and writing which 
attended it, owing to the number of years the family 
reached back, and owing to its extensive ramifications. 
I think in this case I can depart from my rule and give 
the real name of the family, — it was Smith. 

But if arms and genealogies were the worst things 
people wanted, consuls would be well off. There is 
something interesting in the pursuit of such subjects, in 
digging out the armorial bearings of ancestors from 
dusty tomes through centuries back for the benefit of 
their simple republican progeny, who so much esteem 
these attributes of monarchical countries and despotic 
ages, — it is instructive to find how the little weaknesses 
of these ancestors have unerringly descended to them- 
selves ; but when it comes to hunting up lost trunks, 
there is something less ennobling in the pursuit, and 
yet we are called upon to do that too. The system of 
checking baggage in Germany is very complete, — it is as 
good perhaps as with us, — it therefore seemed wonder- 
ful to me that so many trunks should go astray, and 
that I should always be the party selected to restore 
them to their owners. 

A couple of ladies wrote from Stuttgart, ..." We 
liave heard nothing of our trunks, and we are in great 
distress of mind about it. Will you have the kindness 
to write to the chef de gare at Florence and Yerona and 
Munich, and see if you can get an}^ information about 
them. If you could find out for me where they are, I 
would go myself to find them if we can't get them 
otherwise. Please, out of jnty to two poor American 
ladies in distress, try to learn something about them as 
soon as possible, 

" Very respectfully, 

"Annie McClosky." 



104 HUNTING UP LOST TRUNKS. 

Such an appealing letter had due effect, and I did 
what was asked of me. 

Some months later a couple of ladies called at the 
consulate to get addresses of American residents. They 
had a slight Irish brogue, and their lool^s and manners 
were such as convinced me that they were natives of 
the green isle of Erin, and not just members of the 
upper ten. It turned out that one of these ladies was 
Annie McClosky. I strongly suspected that they had 
no legal right to call themselves " two poor American 
ladies," and that they had tackled the American consul 
in their distress because it was the easiest thing for 
them to do. 

A gentleman had a great ado about some trunks that 
were miscarried somewhere on his route across Bavaria. 
He wrote and telegraphed to me nearly a dozen times 
about them, and in his letters told me that he was di- 
rector of a railroad company himself in the United 
States, and knew all about such things, and he darkly 
hinted to me that he was a person of great influence at 
home, and I was led to suppose that he held the fate 
of consuls in his hand. Of course such a personage 
was not to be trifled with. I went to the Eoyal Head 
Director of the Eoyal Bavarian Eailroads, who received 
me very politely, and showed me a batch of tele- 
grams he had received in regard to the matter and of 
his answers thereto, and showed me that everything 
was already being done on the part of the Direction to 
ferret out the trunks and to restore them to their owner. 
The gentleman received his trunks soon afterwards, 
and I thought he would be thankful ; but I straight- 
way received another letter from him telling me that 
he had been put to an expense of over one hundred and 
twenty florins in telegraphing, hotel bills, etc., caused 
by the delay, which, ho said, the company were 
bound to refund him, and he wanted me to direct 
him as to the ^^ surest and most expeditious way of 
getting his money back." He thought I ought to take 
the matter in hand for him. Not wishing the gentle- 
man to lose any further money in an attempt at re- 



WANTING CONSUL TO CALL ON SUNDAY. 105 

ceiving compensation for such outlays at the hands of 
a German railroad company, I advised him to take the 
advice of a good lawyer on the subject. 

A Mr. Bothers had left three trunks at a forwarding 
agent's on storage. He wanted one of the trunks sent 
to him, but was afraid the agents would not send him 
the right one, so he wanted the consul to "go there and 
see the trunk so that it is all right." 

And a Mrs. Troublewell writes: "I left my trunks at 

No. Street, with Mr. , with his consent,'' etc. 

. . . "Will you please see to this immediately, as I 
want to go to Venice. Please write to me at Venice 
and send the trunk directly through to the care of the 
' consel,' and you shall be paid for all expenses. You will 
remember I have money at & Co.'s bank still." 

Another lady sends over a letter late on Saturday 
evening, and wants the consul to go to her apartments 
the next day (Sunday) to give hei; a certificate as to 
the contents of her trunks, which she is going to send 
to the United States. She would not put the consul 
to the trouble, she said, only she wanted to rest her- 
self to-morrow, and was trying to get well enough so 
that she might be able to leave Munich the next 
(Monday) morning. 

Now, this lady could have come to the consulate any 
day, when she went out, to get the desired papers, but 
it suited her better to let the consul go to her, and on 
a Sunday too (she was a good church-woman, b}^ the 
bye, but in Europe her religious views must have 
become blunted a little). She tried flattery at the end 
of her note, saying, " I do not like to go to another 
consul about it, as you know about my trunks, and if 
the document is given me by you, I shall feel quite sure 
of its being all right." 

I necessitated her going to another consul notwith- 
standing, for I did not give myself the pleasure of pay- 
ing her the official visit as she proposed, and I did not 
see her afterwards. 

There are, of course, cases whore real illness prevents 
parties from leaving their bed or their room, and who 



106 ENGAGING ROOMS. 

have important and pressing papers to sign and ac- 
knowledge before the consul, and I suppose no officer 
is so inhumane as not to comply with such requests; 
but our female fellow-citizens, from being just a little 
too much spoiled at home by our male fellow-citizens, 
don't always display that tact and consideration which 
should be the distinguishing characteristic of a well- 
bred and well-educated lady, and I am sorry to have to 
add that this fact was demonstrated to me very un- 
pleasantly on many occasions. 

After the performance of one of Wagner's longest 
operas (being accompanied by a ladj^ and trying for her 
sake to get out of the draft into the cloak-room) I was 
boarded by a couple of female fellow-citizens, who had 
hailed me from afar in the crowd (and from whom I 
could not escape), one of whom wanted me to give her 
the addresses of some Americans in town, and the 
other wanted me to take a note that she was going 
to leave, and to remember that her letters were to be 
redirected to such and such a place. 

This forced intrusion of the shop within the walls 
which had scarcely ceased re-echoing the last strains of 
the " Meistersinger" was unpoetic, to say the least. 

Next to the hunting up of lost trunks, the most in- 
spiriting work is the engaging of rooms or apartments 
for people who intend honoring Munich with their 
presence. It may appear singular, but they don't 
hesitate in the least writing to the consul to do such 
things for them, and they are generally very particular 
about it, as to site, and as to being comfortably fur- 
nished, and healthy, and respectable, and cheap. Some- 
times their requests come by wire, as, for instance, "Am. 
Consul, Munich: Mrs. Brassbound and daughter will be 
at Munich to-morrow ; order one room at Four Seasons.'* 

A party writes from Switzerland, "My dear Sir: 

My daughter Mrs. will arrive on Friday evening 

at Munich en route to Italy, with her baby and nurse. 
As she has no escort w^ith her, may I ask you to see 
her on Saturday morning and assist her getting her 
tickets, etc. ? If you go to the country will your clerk 



TRAVELLING COMPANIONS FOR LADIES. 107 

(io as much ? Perhaps you would engage a room for 
her at the Bavarian Hotel." 

But it is not only babies and nurses that are to be 
looked after, — a lady wrote to me that she was travel- 
ling alone and was not quite well, and asked me to find 
some agreeable lady travelling companions for her; she 
was coming to Munich for a few days, and was then 
going to Italy. 

It must not be supposed that all these requests came 
from friends or acquaintances (in that case there would 
be no object in mentioning them here), but from per- 
fect strangers, who write to the consul because they 
think the consul is at his post for no other purpose but 
to do such things for them. 

A lady saw a fine painting which she would have 
liked to buy, but the price was too high for her. After 
she left Munich she wrote to the consul to try and bar- 
gain with the artist for it, and to get it at her price. 
Another wanted me to go to a sculptor's and hurry 
him up with a statuette she had ordered of him. 

A gentleman passing the summer in the mountains 
for the benefit of his nerves complains that he so 
frequently receives his newspapers in a torn condition, 
— he has remonstrated at the post-office there several 
times, and now writes to the consul, — thinks it a shame 
that Americans can't get their newspapers abroad with- 
out being torn: sometimes one half of them torn away, 
— something must be done in the matter. 

A literary gentleman notifies the consul that he has 
written a work on Goethe's Faust, and wants the consul 
to have it perused by some competent authority at 
Munich before it is translated or published. He wants 
" a candid opinion about its merits," but does not want 
the consul *' to give it to any old fogy to read." Ho 

proposes Professor to the consul as a suitable man 

for the purpose. 

Then come a couple of letters from a gentleman who 
had bought some glassware, and when the goods 
arrived he found a good many things in the box which 
he did not order, but one of the princi|)al tilings which 
he did order — a punch-bowl — was omitted, lie simply 



108 WANTING SITUATIONS. 

wants the consul to go to the firm and get that punch- 
bowl for him and have it sent on, and to tell the people 
that he is not going to pay any more than he has 
already paid, for he cannot help it if they make mis- 
takes and send him things he did not buy, — but he 
wanted h\s punch-bowl. 

That a consul is very frequently called upon to col- 
lect debts for other people will not, I suppose, surprise 
any one. If he cares about doing that kind of work, 
it is a matter of business and he can charge a percentage 
on the amount — if he gets the money. 

Sometimes young Americans do not write home for 
a long time, and their parents get anxious about them 
and write to the consul to hunt them up and give in- 
formation about them — and their morals. Once I was 
requested to hunt up a man's sister who was supposed 
to be in Munich, to see her and try to persuade her to 
write. 

Lots of persons, mostly Germans, come, wanting the 
consul to give them a situation as clerk or secretary, or 
at least to give them a recommendation that will assist 
them in getting a situation elsewhere. They are fond 
of parading their broken English, and are hard to get 
rid of 

One morning a lady called — elegantly dressed, but 
somewhat bulky, — who took up a good deal of room in 
the office, and who cleared several things out of the 
way on the writing-desk to have a place to rest her 
arm upon — to get the address of some artist to go 
round with her and her party to the picture-galleries 
that they might have the benefit of his criticisms. I 
told her I did not know of any artist who did such 
things for strangers. **' Oh, yes," she said, " in Florence 
we had a splendid artist, who went to the galleries 
with us and explained all the pictures to us." I took 
the liberty of telling her that I doubted such a person 
being an artist, — that I supposed it was some valet de 
place who talked art at them ; at any rate, I did not 
feel justified in giving her the address of any of my 
artist friends for such a purpose. She put on an ap- 
pearance of feeling quite injured that I would not com- 



TRAMPS. 109 

ply with her request, and intimated that it was not at 
all necessary for the Munich artists to be so " stuck up." 

Then came the tramps. It would hardly be believed 
what a number of these gentlemen choose Europe for 
the field of their excursions. I must, in justice to our 
people, say that almost without a single exception these 
were German-Americans, — naturalized citizens, drawn 
to the Fatherland by the natural ties of aifection. I 
sometimes had three or four such visits a day. It was 
almost always money they wanted, — simple and direct, 
— though they sometimes beat round the bush by ask- 
ing for old clothes as a starter; but a favorite craving 
is for the consul to give them a recommendation to the 
Eailroad "Direction" for a free passage to the next 
town where there is a consulate. We really have no right 
to make such a request to the railroad "Directions," 
yet some consuls are weak enough to do it, and I have 
to thank several of them for the tramps thus for- 
warded to Munich, and who expected me in turn to 
forward them farther. These free excursionists were 
often impudent enough to ask if there were many 
Americans at the next place they intended going to. 

Sometimes they wanted tickets to quite far-off places, 
as if it were not worth their while to stop at any little 
consulates on the way. One man wanted a ticket to 
Milan (he was recommended to me by one of my col- 
leagues), or, if I couldn't give him a tickejt, would I 
lend him ten florins, which he would be sure to pay 
back. Another man wanted me to give him a free pass 
to New York for himself and his sister. They had re- 
latives there who would help them ; he would be sure 
to pay me back some day ; if I would only do it, I 
would be making two people happy, he said. Another 
man was so hard up he didn't know what to do. lie 
was dreadfully ragged and dirty, and because I refused 
to give him a list of the Americans at Munich to whom 
he could go begging he got very violent, and said that 
if he was caught begging on the streets he would be 
locked up or sent out of the country. lie thought the 
best thing ho could do would be to steal or rob, or 

10 



110 TRAMPS, 

shoot the judge at Thulba (who it appears had 
handled him roughly), and then he would be provided 
for. With this threat, and a small sum with w^hich to 
get something to eat, he left the consulate. 

A man who claimed to be a sailor, and who seemed 
to be sailing over all Europe on the railroads and on 
foot, insisted that I was bound to send him to Antwerp 
to get on board ship again. He was very much the 
worse for liquor, and it was with great difficulty and 
with the assistance of a police-officer that I got him 
out of the office. 

The regular routine was somewhat varied once by a 
woman coming in, in great distress, with a little baby 
in her arms. She was a French woman, and spoke 
nothing but her native tongue, and said her husband, 
James Wilson, was an American citizen, — was a musi- 
cian at a circus at Vienna, and she wanted a ticket to 
that place to join him there. 

Sometimes the parties came in the evening, and to 
my private lodgings, in which case they fared better, 
for my wife then gave them something to eat and 
drink, and something to take along with them. What- 
ever doubts one might have as to the truth of the tale 
each had to tell, there was something refreshingly sat- 
isfactory in the way they demonstrated (when the 
victuals were set before them) the truth of their asser- 
tion that they were hungry and thirsty. 

But even tramps are not the most formidable people 
one has to encounter; it is not necessary to expend 
much politeness on them. 

Of all persons who come to bother the consul, the 
most borish are those who, out of pure laziness or ar- 
rogance, want to make use of him as a living time-table, 
by having him tell them at what hour the trains leave 
for certain places, and when they get there, and how 
many English miles it is, and how much it costs, and 
whether the consul does not consider it pretty slow 
travelling. Now, all this information (except as to the 
last point, and that is not of much value) they can get 
much better at their hotels, or by consulting the rail- 



A LIVING TIME-TABLE. m 

way time-tables or their guide-books ; but no, — it's 
easier for them to go to their consul. These people 
are generally armed with a circular letter of introduc- 
tion from some senator or congressman or from the head 
of one of the departments, saying that the writer will 
feel personally obliged to the consul for any attentions 
he may show the bearer. Something must be done, 
therefore, and once in the clutches of the bearer when 
he gets to inquiring about travelling routes, it is not so 
easy to get out of them, — one has to sit and bear it. It 
is no use politely handing him the last Bradshaw or 
Hendschell, and telling him he will there find full infor- 
mation, — he shoves the book back without opening it, 
and says, "Oh, won't you please look it out for me? I 
never could make head or tail of these confounded rail- 
road books." He puts one's knowledge of geography, 
too, to the severest tests by asking unexpectedly which 
is the directest way, supposing jou are in Paris, or 
London, or Copenhagen, or Constantinople, to get to 
such and such a place ; and then he wants to know 
how many kilometres it is and how often one has to 
change cars. 

A gentleman took the trouble to write to me to tell 
him which was the best route to Suez: he wanted to 
go there to the opening of the canal; another tele- 
graphs from Italy, "American Consul, Munich: Give 
me price in francs of first class from Munich to Yerona. 
Answer paid. Borington." Now, couldn't that fellow 
have looked it up for himself? The waiter at the hotel 
he was stopping at coukl have told him at once. An- 
other writes a postal card, dated at the railroad station 
at Hof (where the time-tables are hanging on all sides 
and where there is a friendly broken-English speaking 
portier to answer questions), to ask at what time trains 
leave Munich to Paris, and how long a journey it is, 
and what the ticket costs; and another, — but this is 
tedious. 



112 MAN WITH A BALLOON. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Man with a Balloon — Guardian and trustee for fatherless children — Not 
much luck in this respect — Chapman and Butler, arrest and trial — 
Lady in prison for debt. 

One bright, invigorating morning in the early autumn, 
a very long man came into the office. Perhaps he was 
not as long as he appeared to be, but he was very thin, 
and his trousers were narrow. He had on a greenish 
sort of a shooting-jacket, which was not American in 
make nor in material, and yet the man was unmis- 
takably a thoroughbred Yankee. I asked him to be 
seated, and when he got down to the lowness of the 
chair, his legs did certainly seem to take up a good 
deal of room. When he flung one leg over the other, 
the semicircle he described with it was so great that I 
was afraid the centrifugal force would make his boot 
fly off". He doubled himself )3till further by leaning for- 
ward so as to bring his head and shoulders down to my 
level, and folded his hands across his stomach as if 
there were but little in it and he wanted to keep that 
little safe. 

He went pretty straight to work by telling me he 
was a balloonist. He had made ever so many ascen- 
sions in America, and had now come over to Europe to 
try his luck, — but luck had tried him still harder; in 
short, he was in difficulties. 

It was just the time of the October festival, and he had 
come to Munich with his balloon to make an ascent 
here. He could not get the permission of the police au- 
thorities, however, as there were already such a number 
of shows of all kinds. What he wanted, in the first 
place, was for me to get him the required license to 
make an ascension. I explained to him that I could 
not help him there, because the actions of the police 
were regulated by strict rules, and, by his own show- 
ing, he had been too late in making his application. 



MAN WITH A BALLOON. 113 

There was really nothing to be done in the matter. 
The man was somewhat disappointed, but he was not 
disheartened. He considered awhile. Then he came 
with his second proposition, which was, that I should 
lend him some money. 

It was embarrassing for me, but there being just at 
that time looming-up signs of the Oriental question 
taking a new phase, I was compelled, out of political 
considerations, to decline. 

The man must have taken a liking to me, neverthe- 
less, for he did not go off in a rage, as he ought to have 
done, but made the startling proposition to me that I 
should go into partnership with him. He placed un- 
bounded confidence in me, for he said if I would only 
advance the capital sufficient to pay for the gas for in- 
flating his balloon, and for the necessary advertise- 
ments, I might take in the money on the day of the 
ascension. I need not go up with him, he said ; I might 
sit at the gate, in fact, and have full financial control of 
the enclosure, and that then, after paying me back the 
sum I had advanced, he would share the profits equally 
with me. 

I suppose I must have been blind to my own interests, 
as I very often am, and at the present moment I can 
scarcely understand how it was that I did not close 
with this proposal. It was another opportunity gone. 

He then offered to sell me his balloon at such a very 
reduced rate that I am almost ashamed to write that 
I let that opportunity slip also. Included in the very 
low price he named was also the benefit of his ex- 
perience, and complete instructions as to the filling of 
the balloon, as to managing it, and — as to making the 
thing pay. He knew that I would be able to sell it 
again at an immense profit ; there were a great many 
of the show people out on the grounds (the Theresien- 
wiese, where the October festival is held) who had ap- 
proached him with offers, but ho would rather have 
the balloon fall into scientific hands, and he was sure 
I would soon find professional men in such a great city 
as Munich who would be eager to buy it ; it was 
want of time alone that prevented him from finding 
h 10^ 



114 MAN WITH A BALLOON, 

the right purchaser, for he was in a hurry to get home 
and wanted to leave Munich at once. 

Although I was plainly a loser in not jumping at his 
offer and going into the proposed speculation, and 
must have sunk very much in his estimation, he 
generously gave me yet another chance. He swung 
back his leg, describing another great semicircle, and 
fumbled in his pocket, and at last drew out something 
wrapped up in a limp bit of newspaper that diffused 
rather a chees}^ smell through the consulate. When he 
opened the paper he displayed an instrument made 
of brass and glass which did not look unlike some 
very clumsy sort of pocket-watch with a very dirty 
face. 

" Xow, Consul, here's a patent ^ Annie Ride' barometer 
which I'd like to sell you cheap. It's a most useful in- 
strument for you to have. You see this scale, and this 
little index? Well, this instrument '11 show you right 
away just how high you are. You see there ? — that's 
a thousand feet. There's two thousand feet ; there's 
five thousand feet, and there's ten thousand feet, and 
it goes up to twenty-five thousand feet. That's higher 
than Mount Blank, that is. ^NTow with this instrument 
you always know where you are when you go up. I 
haven't used itlono-, and it's as wod as new. It's hard 
for me to part with it, but I'll give it to you for a third 
of what it's worth." 

It was indeed, on closer examination, a beautiful 
little instrument, — somewhat tarnished and clammy 
irom being carried in a warm pocket, but then (I 
thought), if I bought it I could easily polish it up again. 
The man's assurances convinced me that it was as use- 
ful as it was ornamental. I was in quite an undecided 
state of mind for a while and began to feel sensible of 
a burning desire to possess the instrument, but when, 
after cool consideration, I called to mind the fact that 
I was not in the habit of going higher than the garret 
of a six-story house (to visit some of my artist friends), 
or, sometimes on my travels, to the top of a steeple, 
the height of which is determined (for they are always 
very particular about measuring steeples), I came to 



GUARDIAN AND TRUSTEE. 115 

the conclusion that I should not very often have occa- 
sion to use the instrument. I was obliged to decline 
this third offer. 

I am afraid I did the wrong thing again : the long 
man's patience was evidently exhausted, for he slammed 
the door very hard when he went out. 

It sometimes happens that a consul is called upon to 
be trustee or guardian for fatherless children. 

I had a United States pensioner whose husband was 
killed in our war. She had returned to her native 
place in Bavaria afterwards with her children, and 
drew her pension regularly, but after having been here 
for several years, and not liking it any longer in Ger- 
many, she determined on going back to the United 
States to live. The grandfather of the children had left 
them a small sum of money on trust, the capital to be 
paid to them upon their coming of age. The woman 
being an American citizen, and having expressed her 
determination to return to her adopted country, the 
court, at her solicitation, decided that if the consul 
would accept the charge, he should be appointed trus- 
tee and guardian for the children. 

The consul accepted, but he hadn't particular luck in 
the affair. 

I learned that the eldest of my wards (whose pecu- 
niary and moral interests I was supposed to have to 
guard) was not only just about coming of age, but 
was also just about coming out of jail, where he had 
been for the second time, for stealing. There wei-e 
several bills to be paid yet for him, which left but little 
of his portion of the legacy remaining, and made him 
dissatisfied. 

The family got over to America, and 1 was glad when 
the third and last of the children reached his majority, 
and I could close my accounts with them. 

I was soon after brought into communication with 
jail-birds of a much deeper dye. 

Police Counsellor B called at the office one 

morning, saying ho had been directed by the chief of 



116 TWO AMERICAN COUNTERFEITERS. 

police to confer with me on a certain matter of some 
gravity. He then told me that on the evening before 
two Americans, giving the names of John Butler and 
I. E. Conkling, of New York, had been arrested at the 
railway station just as they were on the point of 
leaving Munich for Dresden. They had had a large 
quantity of United States fifty-dollar notes changed by- 
several bankers in the city, and one of the latter having 
a strong suspicion that the notes were counterfeit had 
given notice to the police, and a detective had been set 
to watch their movements. When the officer got on 
the trail, he found that they had just left one of the 
larger cafes and had betaken themselves to the rail- 
way station, where they were found, doing quite the 
nobby thing (for Germany) by sitting in the first-class 
waiting-room. As the train they intended taking did 
not leave till evening, it was somewhat strange that 
they should go to the station in the afternoon, several 
hours before the time. Some casual questions were put 
to them by the detective, when they at once took 
alarm, — Butler tried to make his escape through the 
door, whilst Conkling was quite consternated and even 
trembled. From their nervous manner and the con- 
tradictory answers they gave, the officer considered 
himself justified in arresting them. On being taken to 
the police-station, it was found that the men had been 
stopping at different hotels and under other names 
from those now given. The man Conkling, on being 
pressed with questions, admitted having changed sev- 
eral fifty-dollar notes of the National Broadway Bank 
and of the Tradesmen's National Bank of New York 
in the city, but stoutly denied having any more in his 
possession. On being told that his person must be 
searched, he acted in the most violent and unruly 
manner, but he was obliged to submit to the procedure, 
and it was then found that he had artfully secreted 
in various parts of his dress over a hundred United 
States fifty-dollar notes and a large quantity of ten- 
dollar notes of the Consolidated Bank of Canada. The 
belief that these notes were counterfeits, and a tele- 
gram from the police at*Vienna stating that the year 



TWO AMERICAN COUNTERFEITERS. II7 

previous two Americans (supposed to be the same) 
had sold similar counterfeit notes there in great num- 
bers and made their escape, was sufficient to cause their 
detention and to have them arraigned for trial. 

Police Counsellor B in the first place wanted my 

opinion as to whether the notes were genuine or not. 
I could not give him a decided opinion, not having any 
genuine notes at hand to compare them with, but I 
thought from the feel of the paper that they were 
counterfeits. I could only advise him to send some 
specimens to the consuls at Hamburg and Bremen, who 
would certainly have an opportunity of making a 
comparison. 

The prisoners had United States passports, which 
were deposited at the police-office, but the officer think- 
ing they might be forged, and asking me if I would 
do him the favor to examine them, I made an appoint- 
ment to go to the police-office that afternoon. 

I had no reason to doubt the genuineness of the 
passports; one was issued by Mr. Welsh at London, 
the other by Mr. Kasson at Vienna, both of recent 
date. The officers seemed dubious on this point, and 
I therefore told them they had better write to the 
ministers at London and Vienna, where they would 
receive information. They then asked me if, on hear- 
ing the men speak, I could decide whether they were 
Americans or Englishmen, to which I answered that 
that would be but a negative proceeding, for even if 
the men were born Englishmen it was quite a possible 
thing that they might be naturalized American citi- 
zens, and therefore entitled to their passports. The 
officers seemed urgent on the point of nationality, and 
suggested that I should speak with the men and ques- 
tion them. At this stage of the proceedings I did not 
feel called upon to do that, and replied that only u|)on 
an official request from the Director of Police, or on a 
request from the prisoners themselves, as American 
citizens, I would do it. 

The next day there came such a request from the 
prisoners. The detective who had made the arrest 
came in person to my office, saying that the man 



tiff TWO AMERICAN COUNTERFEITERS. 

Conkling had asked to see me, and that he had some- 
thing to say to me that he would say to no one else. 
Butler had also asked to see me. 

When I repaired to the police-office, Conkling was 
brought up. He was a small, nervous man with a 
sandy, fall beard, but bald on the top of his head, very 
pale face, and with stooping shoulders, and was about 
forty years of age ; he was well dressed, but not dandi- 
fied. He appeared very much confused. He first com- 
plained of being put in " a dark place, where there was 
no light, — where I can't see anybody," and that he 
was continually asked questions which they had no 
right to put to him. He said he did not know why he 
had been arrested, — that there had been no charge 
made against him. 

I told him the charge against him was that of pass- 
ing counterfeit money, and that other money found 
upon him was believed to be counterfeit too. I pointed 
out to him that the fact of he and his companion 
having stopped at different hotels in Munich under 
false names, together with the contradictory state- 
ments made by them, were strong grounds of sus- 
picion against them. I cautioned him that I merely 
saw him at his own request and that I had no desire to 
question him, and that he need not say anything that 
w^ould incriminate himself. If he were innocent he 
could, no doubt, easily prove himself so ; if guilty, I 
advised him that a full confession at the proper time 
would work to his advantage in tending to shorten his 
sentence. 

The man, who kept edging up closer to me, and con- 
tinually stroking his beard with his white, attenuated 
hand, did not attempt to make any denial of his guilt, 
but gradually came out with expressions which, I 
thought, fully established it. In the first place, he 
said he did not mean any harm by taking a false name, 
— he had no object in it, — he didn't know himself how 
he came to do it. Then he said, " Suppose the notes 
are not good, can't I make restitution to the bankers 
and thus make it all right?" He said the police had 
no right to search his person nor to ask him any ques- 



TWO AMERICAN COUNTERFEITERS. 119 

lions when arrested on mere suspicion, — that such a 
thing would not be done in America or England, — that 
there the waj's of the police were different. 1 said to 
him, "You seem to know all about the ways of the 
police in England and America." " Oh, no," he said, 
" only what I read in the papers about such things." 
He asked me, in case of his being found guilty, if the 
punishment were a heavy one. Not being fully versed 
in the criminal code of Bavaria I could not tell him 
what the sentence might be, but added that I feared it 
might be a long imprisonment. In the United States, 
I said, he might get as much as twenty years for such 
a crime. To this he quickly replied, "It only says fif- 
teen years on our notes ;" he seemed to have studied 
that point. In the further course of conversation he 
came out with such remarks as, " I cannot say that I 
am entirely innocent," — " I expect to be punished," — 
" if I get a long term I will not be able to live it out ; 
I am already quite broken down in health," — " I wish 
the United States would call for my extradition." 

He asked me, rather hesitatingly, whether I thought 
they would let him write a letter to a woman in Eng- 
land who had charge of his two children, — he wanted 
her to provide for them, but did not want her to know 
what had happened to him, for in that case, he said, her 
house would be surrounded by the police. From all he 
said I was quite convinced that he was connected with 
some gang in England. The letter he wanted to write 
was probably a blind, — its real object was to let his 
pals know his situation. He seemed to think, however, 
it was all up with him then, and he said, mournfully, 
he had been made a tool of by others. 

At the end of our conversation, as he was about leav- 
ing the room, the other man was led in ; they merely 
said good-day to each other, but it was accompanied 
by a knowing look which evidently conveyed some 
secret sign. 

The second man was a short, thick-set man, having 
the appearance of being a mechanic or something of 
that sort, a strong, heavy fellow, with short black hair, 
moustache, and goatee. I told him who T was and that 



120 TWO AMERICAN COUNTERFEITERS, 

I had heard he wanted to see me. ^^No," he said, "I 
did not ask to see you ; I have nothing to say." He 
looked dogged and determined, and clearly knew his 
business, for having seen that I had been talking with 
his partner he deemed it best to keep silent. He was, 
therefore, taken back to his cell. From the few words 
spoken by him, and from his appearance and manners, 
I set him down as an Englishman. Conkling was an 
American. He said he was born in New Jersey. 

The trial of these two men took place on the 17th 
of February, 1879. In the mean time, at Conkling's 
request I had visited him at his prison a couple of times. 
He had nothing particular to tell me ; I suppose the 
poor fellow only wanted a chance of speaking English 
a little. I offered to send him some books to read, but 
he thanked me, saying he had plenty of books. He 
told me that he was in a room with four Germans who 
were also awaiting trial, — that at first he could not con- 
verse with them, but that he had procured a German 
grammar and was studjnns:; the language, and had 
made some progress in it. He looked deathly pale, and 
there was little I could say to comfort him. He seemed 
resigned to his fate, and said he had heard in prison 
that he might get as much as fifteen years. 

Butler never desired to see me. 

Upon the arrest of these men their photographs 
were taken and sent to the State Department at 
Washington. The Chief of the United States Secret 
Service recognized the man giving the name of Butler 
to be Billy Baker, alias Dobson, one of the Dobson 
brothers of California who had acquired such notoriety 
some years before. The other man giving the name 
of Edward Conkling was identified by one of our de- 
tectives as the well-known Joseph B. Chapman, a 
fugitive from justice. He was one of the robbers of 
the Third National Bank of Baltimore in 1872, who 
made away with some three hundred thousand dollars* 
worth of paper. Chapman then went to London, where 
he lived in sumptuous style for a time, but when he 
learned that proceedings were being taken for his extra- 
dition he disappeared. In 1874 he was in Constan- 



TWO AMERICAN COUNTERFEITERS, 121 

tinoplc, and was there arrested for forgery of British 
notes, was convicted, and sent for three years to prison 
in Smyrna. In the same prison was confined a man 
known as Howard Adams, who formerly kept a bar- 
room in San Francisco, for forgeries upon the Ottoman 
Bank. Adams made the acquaintance of Chapman, 
and learned that the latter's wife was holding safe a 
great part of his gains. Adams managed to break jail, 
and escaped. He at once hunted up Chapman's wife, 
cruelly murdered her, and robbed her of all her jewels 
and money. Chapman had two children living in Lon- 
don. An English woman, very respectable in appear- 
ance, called on me some time afterwards to get per- 
mission, through me, to visit Chapman in jail ; she said 
a high-born lady in London would provide for the 
children. I had my suspicions that my visitor was in 
some closer and less innocent way connected with 
Chapman. 

At their trial these men were each defended by good 
lawyers, but the trial brought out facts which stamped 
Chapman and Butler as two of the most precious 
scoundrels, who had been plying their nefarious trade 
not only in the United States and Canada, but in almost 
every country of Europe. That the notes sold by 
them were counterfeits was attested by the Treasury 
Department at Washington, and communications from 
the police departments of New York and London char- 
acterized them as most dangerous forgers and burglars, 
belonging to an organized band of thieves and robbers 
in England. 

In 1878 some five thousand dollars' worth of United 
States notes were sold by these men in Vienna. These 
notes, which were, at the time, not suspected, found 
their way to Hamburg, and were there sold to emi- 
grants, who, upon their arrival in New York, dis- 
covered, to their horror, their worthlessness. Chap- 
man was no stranger in Munich. In 1873 he drew in 
that city six hundred and seventy-five pounds sterling 
upon a circular letter of credit, and in Brussels and 
Vienna had also drawn some seven hundred pounds on 
the same. It was discovered that this circular letter 
F 11 



122 LADY IN PRISON FOR DEBT. 

was originally for two hundred pounds only, but Chap- 
man had so artfully altered it to two thousand pounds 
as to cheat the bankers in three large cities. He and 
others of his gang had also drawn money in Mannheim, 
Frankfurt, and other places on forged papers, and the 
Swiss police had charges against them too for similar 
oifences perpetrated there. 

At the trial, the ways of a German court of justice 
did not meet the approval of these men. They pro- 
tested, especially, against direct questions being put to 
them, saying that in the English and American courts 
no person on trial was obliged to give an answer that 
would criminate him ; hereupon they were instructed 
by the judge that such was not the practice of the 
German courts, and that a refusal to answer on their 
part would be construed as a confirmation of the ques- 
tion. The trial lasted two whole days. By degrees 
they made confessions which, of themselves, were 
enough to establish their guilt. Chapman acknowl- 
edged being a forger, but indignantly denied being a 
thief. 

The sentence pronounced against Chapman was nine 
years', against Butler, five years' imprisonment. There 
were requisitions for the delivery of the prisoners from 
the United States, the Austrian, and the Swiss govern- 
ments after the serving of their terms in Bavaria, so 
that their ultimate prospects of any years of ease and 
freedom were extremely problematical. 

Both men died in jail : Butler died in 1883, and 
Chapman in 1884. The Ministry for Foreign Affairs 
sent me a notice of the deaths. Chapman left some 
effects, an inventory of which was also sent to me, and 
which I reported to the State Department; he left a 
lot of clothing, some jewelry, and quite a small library. 

I was again brought within prison walls not long 
afterwards, though this time the subject of my visit 
was very different from the two hardened sinners I 
have just written about. 

The proprietor of one of the larger hotels sent round 
to me one Sunday evening begging me to go at once to 



LADF IN PRISON FOR DEBT. 123 

the City prison, as there was an American lady there 
who had just been arrested at his house for debt, and 
who had urgently demanded to see me. I hastened to 
the hotel to get the particulars ; it was too late at any 
rate that evening to get a permit to visit the prison. 
The lady in question, although a born American, the 
daughter of a gentleman who had held a high official 
position at home, was no longer an American citizen, 

as she had married Herr von W , who had been, 

formerly. Secretary of Legation at the Embassy 

in Munich. The Imperial Minister, who had died 

only a week or so before, at Munich, was an uncle of 
the lady's husband. This uncle had on several occa- 
sions dutifully paid the not insignificant debts of this 
sumptuously faring couple (who for the last year had 

been living in great style at ), and had also, shortly 

before his death, endorsed notes of his nephew for over 
twenty thousand dollars, and had, besides, loaned him a 
sum of over half the above amount. 

On learning of the death of their good uncle, who 
was, besides, a bachelor, they hurried to Munich in the 
hope of finding themselves proclaimed his sole heirs 
and of taking immediate possession of his property. 
But cruel fate was against them, for another nephew 
of the deceased minister (who had always felt himself 

injured because Herr von W had been his uncle's 

favorite) no sooner heard that the couple were in the 
city than he had them arrested for debt, — partly for 
debts owing to him personally, but principally for 
debts owing to the estate. 

There is no imprisonment for debt in Bavaria, but 
in the case of foreigners, where fears are entertained 
that they may abscond, they may be placed in deten- 
tion for a period not longer than five months. 

I knew the lady was no longer an American citizen, 
and therefore I could not interfere officially, but I knew 
who her relatives were, and I knew that she was a 
personal friend of a distinguished American gentleman 

with whom I was acquainted. I repaired to the 

Legation that evening, intending to see the acting 
secretary, for no new minister had been appointed ; I 



124 LADY IN PRISON FOR DEBT. 

had hopes that I could induce him to set the lady at 
liberty, seeing he had the husband in safety. The sec- 
retary was *'not at home;" my card had probably 
given him an inkling of the object of my visit. 

I repaired next morning to the prison, and was 
ushered up-stairs into a pretty large room, well lighted 
and clean, though barely furnished. I found the lady re- 
clining on her bed, dressed in very rich velvet, with a fur- 
bordered cloak, and with kid glov.es reaching nearly to 
the elbows, with about forty-seven buttons. It would 
be out of place here to give any description of her per- 
sonal appearance ; suffice it to say that it was not in 
ill accordance with the richness and stylishness of her 
dress. A girl, also a prisoner, had a mattress in the 
corner of the room, and evidently acted, for the time 
being, as servant to the lady. The girl went out of the 
room to walk in the corridor during my visit. 

The lady, without changing her position, and with- 
out further introduction, ran over the catalogue of her 
wrongs in a very voluble, but at the same time very 
rambling manner, well spiced with anathemas against 
her husband's cousin and the Secretary of Legation, 
whom she called '' the dirty little Jew" more than 
once. From the long diatribe I gleaned a confirma- 
tion of the statements already written, and also, that 
her affairs in America were in a pretty tangled condi- 
tion. It was long, very long, before I was able to 
put in a word, which simply was to tell her that I 
could do nothing for her officially. She knew that 
very well, but she implored me to write a letter in her 

behalf to General , to tell him her situation and 

to entreat his help, — which I did. She also wanted to 
cable to America, and had written a couple of despatches 
which covered nearly four pages of letter-paper each, 
and I was obliged to hint to her that for a person who 
was momentarily out of funds such a despatch would 
be of somewhat disproportionate expense, and begged 
her to sacrifice her feelings and send only a few 
necessary words — and to the point. 

Some accounts she gave of her husband's doings 
were not calculated to generate any great feelings of 



LADV IN PRISON FOR DEBT, 125 

respect for him, and I thought it would have been 
better to have left such things unsaid before a stranger. 
He was confined in a separate apartment, and had no 
communication with her, but I believe she was not 
grieving very much on that account. 

The husband, it seems, took rather a light and airy- 
view of their position, as was shown by some letters he 
wrote during his confinement to his cousin, — his de- 
tainer, — and which were read in court as evidence, and 
which caused much merriment. He even tantalized 
his cousin with the assurance that he would get no- 
thing from him at any rate, while with him time was 
passing very rapidly in prison, especially as he had 
turned scientist, and had taken to the study of zoology, 
and had made interesting observations as to the habits 
of certain very small animals of which the prison bed 
furnished some excellent specimens. 

I left the lady, promising to do what I could for her. 
It was onl}^ a day or two after this that our Minister 
at Berlin received a cable despatch from the State De- 
partment to inquire into the lady's situation, which he 
did, by writing and telegraphing to the consul and in- 
structing him to do it, — which the consul had already 
done. The correspondence between the Legation and 
the Consulate began to take ominous dimensions, and 
the consul had to spread himself over many a sheet of 
foolscap in the case. 

The minister could not act oflScially any more than 
the consul could ; his kind intentions of acting as a 
mediator between the lady and her creditors were 
somewhat impeded by the incoherency of the lady's 
long epistles to him, in which she inveighed against her 
husband's cruel relatives, and gave vivid pictures of 
the hardships she had to bear, but she omitted giving 
a statement of such facts and circumstances as would 
have aided the minister in making an approach to a 
friendly settlement. 

All acts of persuasion would not soften the hearts of 
the creditors, and it was only when a lawyer camo 
over from America and proved to the court that no 
part of the property of the parties in the United States 

11* 



126 A SWEET SUBJECT, 

could be made available for the payment of the debts, 
that the prisoners were freed, — after their having been 
nearly six weeks in detention. The creditors, although 
they got no money, had the grim satisfaction of having 
inflicted severe and humiliating punishment. The lady 
and her husband, it is almost unnecessary to say, 
glided away from Munich in the shortest possible time 
to seek more hospitable lands. 



CHAPTER IX. 



A sweet subject — Sucking liquorice — Characteristics of the German — 
Essay on liquorice-culture in Bamberg — Bothersome to ask questions 
in Germany — Handshaking of German-Americans — Wanting to show 
off their English — " Hats off in front" — American manners — Ameri- 
can tailor, so called — Man in the office keeping his hat on — One 
more case of the above — Professor of art school — How to manage an 
art school — Royal State Library at Munich — Lending books and 
manuscripts — Deaths of Americans — Suicides — Student making dia- 
gram of his brain — Franklin Webster — To look after graves of Ameri- 
cans — Curious affection of the mind in sorrow — ** Is that grave as deep 
as usual ?" — Talking politics on leaving the cemetery. 

Where is the boy, or girl, who has not revelled in 
the delicious luxury of sucking liquorice, — of chewing 
liquorice-root? Don't you remember, kind reader, the 
ecstatic joy you experienced in getting hold of some 
empty medicine-bottle, filling it with water and dissolv- 
ing little chunks of liquorice in it, and then shaking it 
up till the brown juice looked like foaming porter? 
What a coveted treasure it was ! how proud was the 
happy possessor of it ! Or, if not having such a bottle 
5''0urself, what a boon it was, when, after much begging 
and coaxing, or by the promise of so many marbles or 
half-eaten apples in return, you were allowed to take 
a suck from the bottle of some little comrade, he hold- 
ing it to your mouth, clutching it with a firm grip, 
never allowing the bottle to go out of his hands, and 
tilting it back nervously for fear that too much of the 
precious liquid might disappear! and how ambrosial it 



ESSAY ON LiqUORICE-CULTURE. 127 

tasted, notwithstanding the bottle was pretty warm 
from being long carried in the pocket ! 

A colleague once wrote to me that he had heard 
that liquorice was cultivated to some extent in the 
neighborhood of Bamberg, Bavaria, and that he was 
desirous of obtaining some statistical information in 
regard thereto. He simply wanted to know the quan- 
tity grown, its value, the mode of cultivation, and the 
markets it was sold to. I wrote at once to the head 
of the Agricultural Bureau of Upper Franconia, asking 
for a short reply on the above points. 

When a German starts out to do a thing he does it 
thoroughly ; we all know the old story touching on 
this characteristic. If a German were called on to 
write an essay on a locomotive, for instance, he'd go all 
the way back to the Garden of Eden, merely as a con- 
venient resting-place from which to take a retrospec- 
tive view of the history of the world, from the time 
even before chaos was quite completed, and he'll prove 
by mathematical calculations and logical deductions 
that at that time there were no locomotives yet, — that 
they must have come later, and he'll spread himself out 
through folio after folio on their origin, and you'll won- 
deringly learn that there are more things in heaven 
and earth than you, in your philosophy, had dreamed of 

The answer I got to my questions was astonishing 
in its way, but not being entirely uninteresting, I will 
give it in part here. 

" The deductions of vegetable geography prove that 
Glycyrrhiza echinata is cultivated in Eussia, Glycyr- 
rhiza glabra in Spain, Glycyrrhiza glandnlifera in the 
Caucasus, and Glycyrrhiza lepidota in Louisiana, in 
the United States of North America. 

'' It is beyond a doubt that the first plant, which was 
the origin of the cultivation of liquorice which has been 
carried on for centuries at Bamberg, came from Spain. 
Relying on the tradition that the original plant was 
first raised and nurtured in the cloister gardens of the 
Benedictine monks of St. Michael's Mount, wo can 



128 ESSAY ON LiqUORICE-CULTURE. 

assume that monks from some Spanish monastery- 
brought it over to Bamberg, or that the inhabitants 
of St. Michael's Mount came into possession of it at 
the time the great highway of traffic passed through 
Venice and Augsburg, for it was a great desideratum 
with the inhabitants of St. Michael's Mount to plant 
the fields around Bamberg not only with vegetables, 
but also with such fruits of the earth as would form an 
article of commerce. 

"The sandy soil of the neighborhood was just suit- 
able for liquorice; the roots could spread, and the plant 
flourished, so that in a short time its cultivation was 
BO extended that, as early as the sixteenth century, it 
was sent from Bamberg to all parts of the world, ^even 
in big two-horse wagons,* as a report of that period 
states. In a manuscript preserved in the archives of 
Bamberg, entitled ^De landibus Bambergse,' the author 
quotes the Prince-Bishop of Eedwitz (1522) as saying 
that the planting of liquorice began there in the fif- 
teenth century, and that it was one of the most im- 
portant of their products. 

" This branch of industry, which has already taken 
large dimensions, has always been pursued with great 
gusto, and at the time when the institution of the 
guilds was at its height, and the cultivators of the 
liquorice were dignified by the name of * gardeners,' 
and were classed as apprentice, journeyman, and master, 
no one could be promoted to the latter grade without 
having made his so-called ^masterpiece.' This master- 
piece consisted in digging out a root of the liquorice 
plant without in the least injuring it. As the main 
or vertical root not only grows down into the earth 
some six or eight feet, but the lateral roots extend 
eight or ten, sometimes even twenty feet in all direc- 
tions, parallel with the surface, it is no easy matter to 
dig them out with a spade (the only instrument that was 
allowed to be made use of) without cutting through or 
even scathing the roots. It required great command 
over the tool in doing this work. If any accident 
happened in the process, the aspirant for mastership 
was obliged to begin, at once, work on a fresh root. 



BOTHERSOME TO ASK QUESTIONS. 129 

Three or four hours were allowed for bringing out the 
root entire, and if, on account of the roots being longer 
than usual, he did not fulfil his task in that time, he 
was roundly chaffed by his companions. The digger 
having cut down some two and a half or three feet, 
and thrown out the earth around him to the same 
height, stood in a pit nearly up to his head ; he could 
not get out of this pit, or was not allowed to do so, 
until his work was done. Of course the exercise gave 
him a keen appetite, and his comrades reached him 
some refreshment if he begged for it in the set form 
of words and prescribed supplicatory manner. If the 
roots happened to lie in a hard soil, he was allowed a 
bucketful of water to soften the earth with. He had 
the hardest time of it if the roots formed a knot or 
ring, in which case he had to delve under them, and it 
not unfrequently happened that the earth around him 
caved in and almost buried him. This, of course, was 
a sign for a great outburst of jollity on the part of the 
spectators. All this is changed now. With the aboli-* 
tion of the guilds system such performances are done 
away with, and a gardener is no longer obliged to earn 
bis mastership by such a hard trial." 

I have given the foregoing in a very condensed form. 
The paper goes on to describe what kind of soil is best 
suited for liquorice, the time and manner of planting 
and of propagating it, how long it takes before the plant 
is ready for use, etc. The further contents of this 
lengthy paper can have no interest for the reader. I 
have merely given the foregoing to show what kind 
of an answer the Teutonic mind often builds up to a 
simple question. It is sometimes bothersome to be 
inquisitive in Germany; not bothersome to the party 
asked, — for he is always glad to show his erudition, — 
but to the party asking, who throws himself open to 
be attacked with such a long-winded reply. 

It is a peculiarity of German-Americans that they 
invariably (no matter what their station) want to 
shake hands with me when they come and when 



130 AMERICAN MANNERS, 

they go, — also that they always want to show off their 
English. Native Americans do not shake hands as a 
general thing when they merely come on a matter of 
business. 

" Hats off in front." 

In regard to our manners we are a very vilified na- 
tion. People in Europe who consider themselves the 
cream of good breeding pretend that they cannot think 
of a Yankee except with his hands in his pockets, his 
feet high in air, and his hat tilted over on to his nose 
as if it were glued there. 

A little Mosaic tailor, whose English was about as 
crooked as his nose, set himself up and announced him- 
self on his sign and on his cards as an "American 
Tailor," and in order to carry out the illusion, and to 
make himself appear genuine, he was in the habit 
when he entered any place, either public or private, of 
keeping his hat firmly plastered on his head, with his 
^ hands dug into his trousers, and of whistling softly. 
I sincerely hope some good shoemaker's work came 
into close contact with his own broadcloth for it. 

I can inform the world that, as far as politeness and 
courteousness are concerned, we are on a par with any 
other nation. Perhaps some of the outward forms may 
be here and there lacking with us, but the kernel is 
as sound — it may be sounder — as with many nations 
who pay so much attention to externals. 

In regard to this one particular, that of our alwa^^s 
keeping the hat on in a room, or in another person's 
house, I can testify that in my long experience I can 
think of only two or three cases where Americans did 
not uncover their heads in coming into the office, just 
as spontaneously as any other gentleman would have 
done. If foreigners had any cause to depreciate us in 
this respect, it is a thing of the past. 

I can call to mind only one full-blooded example of a 
class which is, I hope, becoming extinct. The gentleman 
in question was i'rom the heart of our country ; he ac- 
companied a^couple of ladies who had business at the 
consulate. The ladies did all the talking, and he, being 



PROFESSOR OF ART SCHOOL, 131 

of a contemplative turn, tilted back his chair and did 
not attempt to wear out his hat by any unnecessary 
handling of it; he held communion with a quid of very 
good tobacco, which he was silently enjoying, and he 
honored my spit-box with attentions which it had 
never received before. But this was the only case of 
the kind. 

No, there was one other ; he was a professor too, — a 
professor in one of our art schools. His business 
abroad was to look into the working of the art 
academies of Europe. At his request I took him to the 
Academy in Munich, where one of the professors, a 
friend of mine, showed us all through the building, 
through the class-rooms, through the painting and 
sculpture rooms, through the librarj^ — in fact, all over. 

My professor — I mean the Yankee one — got very 
tired in this ramble, his numerous questions in the be- 
ginning, which were answered through me, as inter- 
preter, began to thin off, and at last he only opened his 
mouth to yawn, which he did pretty frequently. When- 
ever we came into a new room he sat himself down on 
a stool, or anything he could find, and hugged his knee. 
But the most aggravating part of his behavior was 
that he never took off his hat, except now and then to 
cool his head. I introduced him to several of the gen- 
tlemen who were at work, but the hat didn't come off, 
and I must say the Yankee professor did not make a 
favorable impression on those he met. 

After we left, he confessed to me that he didn't un- 
derstand much about painting as yet, but that he was 
going to learn. He asked me innumerable questions as 
to my views in regard to the plan of instruction for an 
art school. As he seemed really to place some con- 
fidence in my judgment, I could not help telling him, 
without any intention of being personal, that I thought 
the best plan was to begin by teaching the professors. 

The Eoyal and State Library at Munich was, some 
twenty years ago, the second largest library in the 
world ; I believe it now ranks third or fourth. It is 



132 DEATHS OF AMERICANS. 

housed m a colossal building on the Ludwig Strasse, 
erected by the architect Gaertner. The staircase, in 
particular, is very imposing, and glows with gold and 
bright colors. Our government has made several 
valuable presents of books to this institution through 
the medium of the consulate. 

The institution is very liberal in the advantages it 
offers to readers. Any one can call for books in the 
reading-room. To take books from the library it is 
necessary to have an introduction from some respect- 
able and known citizen or public officer. Americans 
who wish to take books home with them apply to the 
consul for such an introduction. Even Americans re- 
siding in other countries of Europe apply through the 
consulate for books, which are cheerfully loaned them. 

A gentleman in Philadelphia once made a request to 
have — not books — but some old Spanish and Italian 
manuscripts touching on the history of the Jesuits sent 
to him. I hardly thought the Director would accede to 
such a request, for a manuscript is something which, if 
lost, cannot be replaced. He had no authority to lend 
me the manuscripts, especially to go across the water, 
but said that if the sanction of the Secretary of the In- 
terior were obtained, there would be no objection made 
on his part. As the works asked for were for the use 
of a gentleman of high literary standing I wrote to the 
minister, who courteously gave his permission. The 
manuscripts, sealed up in a tin box, and fully insured, 
were sent over. It was a relief to me, however, when, 
after about half a year, they were safely returned. 

The most painful and melancholy duties a consul is 
called upon to perform are those which sometimes arise 
on the death of an American in his district. It is not 
the mere taking charge of the effects of the " deceased 
citizens dying abroad who have no known heirs or 
representatives" there that is trying, — all that is regu- 
lated by consular instructions, — it is a matter of busi- 
ness, — but the consul is generally expected to assist at 
the interment. The friends or relatives of the deceased, 
being strangers in the land, feel themselves naturally 



DEATHS OF AMERICANS. 133 

drawn towards the consul as if he were the one who could 
be most in sympathy with them. He sometimes has 
to visit the dying, too. He is, in many cases, asked by 
the family to attend to the embalming of the corpse 
and to the sending of it home for interment.* 

Death is a cheerless visitor at all times, but par- 
ticularly so when he clutches his victims far away from 
their home, — far away from those loving ones, — those 
nearest of kin. And yet some even call on death be- 
fore he is ready for them, — force him to them. It was 
my sad duty to report no less than four suicides of 
young Americans during my term of office. They were 
all students, and were quite alone. There was nothing, 
in either case, but some wearing apparel and a few 
books, perhaps a trifling sum of money, to be taken 
charge of. I had never known any of these unfortu- 
nate men. Each had, for some time before his rash 
act, completely withdrawn himself from the society of 
his fellow-countrymen. 

One of these cases seemed to me particularly horrible 
on account of the deliberateness with which it must 
have been done. It was that of a medical student 
who had been at Munich only a few weeks. He was 
stopping at a hotel, and he was found in his room, 
sitting in an arm-chair, with a pistol lying on the table 
beside him. It was a revolver, but only one barrel had 
been loaded, the contents of which he had driven 
through his brain. But on the table was also found 
something that was even more wicked-looking than 
the pistol itself. It was an anatomical diagram of the 
skull. He had evidently studied out which was the 
most fatal course for the ball to take, and had marked 
the drawing with a black spot where the ball was to 
enter, and had indicated the line of its passage. The 
corpse showed that he had, in the coolest manner, 
placed the pistol in exactly the same spot on his own 
head, holding it in precisely the intended direction ; 
death must have be'en instantaneous. 

A score or so of Americans have their final resting- 

* I unfortimiktelj had soveral such commissiun.i to exocute. 
12 



134 THE GRAVES OF AMERICANS. 

place in the cemeteries of Munich. Mr. Franklin 
Webster, formerly United States Consul at Munich, is 
also buried there. His successor, at the request of the 
family, had a stone erected over the grave. 

Touching letters sometimes came from those at home 
earnestly entreating the consul to look after the grave, — 
the grave of some loved one, — and to give them a de- 
scription of its condition and its appearance. I thought 
the best way of complying with such requests was to 
send a little drawing of the grave. 

Every one must have had occasion to notice — per- 
haps experienced it themselves — how curiously the 
mind of those who have just lost some one who was 
very dear to them is often affected. For the first few 
days the mind is in a kind of stupor: it will not con- 
trol itself; it is sensible of a great calamity, of an over- 
powering sorrow, and yet, how often does one catch 
oneself at such times wandering off and thinking of 
the most trivial things, or of making remarks which 
might almost strike the hearer as being feelingless ! 
The oppressive burden of grief, the gnawing longing of 
the heart after him we have lost, — the stinging sense 
of the void created in our breast, — come later, but most 
surely, with crushing force. 

A gentleman with his wife and a family of small 
children came to Munich to spend some time. His wife 
was a sickly woman, and taking a heavy cold which 
was not attended to, it developed into a fever and she 
died. The poor man was in despair. On the day of 
the funeral a difficulty arose which made his sense of 
loneliness and grief still more poignant. He had 
omitted giving notice of his wife's death to the English 
clergyman, and now, at the last moment, he found that 
the clergyman had left town. He did not want to have 
a German Protestant clergyman because he belonged to 
a different sect, and besides, because he thought it not 
right to have the service performed in a language which 
was strange to him, — a language that his wife had not 
understood. He hurried to the consulate just as I was 
about going to the cemetery. He told me his dilemma 



THE CEMETERY AT MUNICH. I35 

and begged me to read the funeral service. I did not 
feel myself worthy of performing such an office, but he 
urged me bo that I was obliged to consent. At the 
cemetery, however, there was a young student who 
had originally studied for the ministry j he took the 
task off of my hands. 

In walking into the cemetery with the gentleman, 
before reaching the chapel (the corpse-house), we had 
to pass the prepared grave. Here he stopped and 
looked into it. Then he made some remarks, which 
struck me as being very curious. He asked me if 
that grave were about as deep as they generally make 
them at home ; then he asked me if the soil were not a 
very moist one, and then he asked me how long I 
thought it would take a body to rot in such a soil. 

I drew him away as gently as I could. A number 
of Americans were assembled at the chapel. The 
funeral procession started to the grave. The service 
was performed in a most solemn and befitting manner. 
I accompanied the gentleman back to his lodgings ; it 
struck me again as curious that all the way back he 
talked politics. 



CHAPTEE X. 



The cemetery at Munich — Making the acquaintance of the dead — How 
the corpses are handled — King and bell attachment — Beautiful monu- 
ments — The first monument — A ghost story — Sending a corpse home 
— The right man in the right place — *^ Is Dr. Leberfleck more for the 
kidneys ?" etc. 

The cemetery at Munich has a great attraction for 
strangers ; it is one of the sights of the city. 

If one has not been successful in seeing any one of 
the great men of Munich while living, one can always 
make his acquaintance upon his death. To be sure, 
you cannot hold much communication with him, for 
there is a thick plate glass between you and him, but 
then you can see him to the best advantage, for he is 
lighted up with plenty of wax candles, and he keeps 



136 THE DEAD-HOUSE. 

very quiet for you to look upon him. He is almost 
smothered with flowers, and the face looks very leath- 
ery by contrast with their brilliant colors. The glass 
windows are somewhat greasy at the lower portion 
from the people flattening their noses against them to 
get a better view. 

The corpses are kept for forty-eight hours in the 
" dead-house" before interment. Each coffin is num- 
bered, and outside, in the vestibule, a framed list gives 
the name and age of each occupant. Great precau- 
tionary measures are taken against the chance of bury- 
ing any one who might possibly be only in a trance. 

A corpse is not allowed to be kept more than twenty- 
four hours in the house (quite a wise regulation in 
cities where many families live under the same roof). 
It is then taken to the " dead-house" at the cemetery. 
When the coffin has been placed, a ring is slipped over 
the middle finger of the corpse, having a connecting 
wire to the ceiling, and from there carried over to an 
adjoining apartment, where the wire is attached to a 
bell having a number corresponding to that of the 
coffin. The slightest movement of the body would 
cause the bell to ring, and the attendants would be at 
once notified. In such cases they have their special 
instructions as to what is to be done. 

In the large halls there is quite a net-work of wires 
with the ends hanging down, and it rather unpleasantly 
reminds one of a vast telegraph-office where a good 
deal of business is being done. The quiet corpses lying 
there side by side, with their fingers in the rings, make 
a weird and mystic impression on one — those poor 
human batteries, — charged with all the miseries of 
earth, — with their wires connecting with eternity. If 
those wires were indued with the power of trans- 
mitting the expressions of the living soul within, what 
tales would be theirs I 

I often used to think how horrible it must be should 
one of the bells suddenly begin ringing — suppose at 
the dead of night, when the great graveyard is 
deserted by all, save the thousands of ghosts that 
haunt it, — the ghosts below ground, and those in the 



BEAUTIFUL MONUMENTS. 137 

halls, silently awaiting their turn to be shovelled in, — 
and the solitary living watcher in the charnel ante- 
chamber. And yet such things not unfrequently hap- 
pen. From the swelling of the bodies the hand some- 
times slips down, and the bell rings. The watchman, 
' — hardened old chum of the dead, — like a sprightly 
waiter, saunters in to see what is wanted; but he only 
has to raise the icy, leaden hand to its place again, and 
he returns to his room, hoping he may not be dis- 
turbed again for the night. 

This arrangement of the rings and the bells is made 
probably more for the consolation of the public than 
for its necessity : no case has occurred since its intro- 
duction, some thirty years ago, of any of the occupants 
of the dead-house coming to life again. 

The little children alone lie there in groups by them- 
selves, and have no wires attached to them. 

In the southern cemetery the dead-house lies between 
the old and the new parts, and is enck)sed in an arcade. 
People who are not fond of gazing on the dead can 
pass by without the sight being intruded upon them. 

A visit to the southern cemetery is of great interest 
on account of the number of beautiful monuments, 
works of the highest art, which adorn it; many of 
these are embellished with figures in marble and in 
bronze, and with paintings in fresco on the walls of 
the arcades. Before the present century the graves 
were only designated by simple crosses of wood. Those 
who wished to pay more marked respect to the mem- 
ory of their dead, and whose means permitted it, set 
up a larger cross of iron. Franz Schwanthaler, the 
father of the famous Ludwig von Schwanthaler, about 
the year 1790 ventured to put up the first monument, 
— a female figure mourning over an urn, — but this in- 
novation met with so much opposition on the part of 
the public that the monument was, soon after its erec- 
tion, destroyed at night. Schwanthaler the elder per- 
severed in his efforts to introduce works of sculpture 
as appropriate tributes to the memory of the dead, and 
by degrees the people accustomed themselves to them. 
At the present day there are few cemeteries which 

12* 



138 A OHOST STORY, 

possess such stately and beautiful monuments. All the 
graves are covered with brilliant flowers, and are well 
tended. 

The older part of the great cemetery was consecrated 
in 1577. In 1789 all the other cemeteries, those at- 
tached to each church, were done away with, and the 
remains of the corpses transferred to the cemetery. 
In 1818 it was further extended, and enclosed within 
a wall, the ground-plan being that of an Egyptian 
mummy-case. In later years a new cemetery adjoin- 
ing and connecting with the old one was built by Gaert- 
ner. It is in the form of the Italian Campo Santo, and 
carried out in mediaeval Lombard style, with vaulted 
halls around the four sides. In the centre stands a 
colossal crucifix in bronze, one of the best works of 
Halbig. 

A GHOST STORY. 

It was an unusually wild winter. There was a great 
deal of sickness, and many cases of fever. November 
and December, with damp, quickly-melting snows and 
slush and sleet, were succeeded by a January of in- 
tense cold. 

A young American from one of the Western States 
had come to Munich to study, — I believe to study art, 
although he was not at the Academy. I had known 
him but slightly. He did not associate much with 
other Americans; he was no beer-drinker, and he 
seems to have lived a retired life, and spent his even- 
ings at his rooms. Some distant relatives were with 
him, and through them I learned that he had become 
dangerously ill, and was lying at the hospital. He had 
a severe fever, and had soon become delirious. He oc- 
cupied a private room at the hospital, — was not in one 
of the wards, and had the best medical attendance. 
Every attention was paid to his comfort by the good 
Charity Sisters who nursed him, but all in vain. He 
lingered on for a long time, but his condition did not 
improve. His family at homo had been written to, and 
they were prepared for the worst, for it was evident 
that the young man (who was not bf a strong or ro- 



A GHOST STORY. 139 

bust constitution, and who had been ailing already 
when he first came to Munich) was slowly dying. 

I had not been quite well myself that winter. Al- 
though not confined to my bed, still, I was glad enough, 
after office hours were over, to lie down and get rest 
and warmth and quiet; and in the mornings I re- 
mained under the covers as long as possible, for my head 
was heavy and my limbs felt creaky, as if the bones or 
sockets had got rusty and wanted a good oiling. One 
morning I had just got into a violent perspiration, 
which, I was satisfied, was going to do me a world of 
good ; which, I imagined, would set me up entirely. I 
was lying as quiet as a mouse, not daring to twitch a 
muscle for fear the least motion might interrupt the 
electric fluid which I felt was whirling around me, 
when suddenly the house-bell was jerked with a vio- 
lence that put the wire to the severest test, and before 
I had time to speculate as to who could possibly be the 
author of that wild ring, I heard loud wailing and 
moaning and excited cries in the entry. With that 
instinctive feeling which one has on hearing such 
turbulent voices (which even the intervention of two 
walls only serves to muffle, but not to shut out), that 
some dreadful accident has happened, I jumped up and 
hurried on my clothes. But I had not proceeded far 
before I learned what the matter was, for I heard a 
piercing cry of, "Oh, Eobbie's dead, — Robbie's dead!" 

The ladies (his relatives) had rushed to the consul. 
They begged me to go at once to the hospital. They 
did not seem to know themselves why I should go, or 
what I should do there, but in their distress they felt 
that that was the first thing to be done, and their en- 
treaties were quite imperative, so that I was forced 
along without getting even a chance to advert to my 
own illness, or to the fact that my going to the hospital 
could really have no object. It was one of those cases 
in which a man is started by some mysterious power 
on an errand which he knows has no meaning, and 
which he is yet impelled to perform. I saw it would 
give some comfort to the mourning relatives of the 
dead boy, — so I went. 



140 A GHOST STORY, 

It was one of those surly, cold, leaden days when all 
nature seems to have come to a stop. There was no 
wind moving, there was no snow falling, there were no 
clouds flying overhead ; even the cold had nothing 
active in it. It did not force itself against me, but it 
seemed to be oozing into and filling all the pores of the 
skin, soaking through to the muscles and the bones 
with its own dull weight. The earth was enveloped in 
a whitish-gray mist, — it seemed as if the world were 
dissolving itself slowly into a state of purblindness, to 
be followed gradually by absolute chaos. 

A hospital is not at any time a cheerful place to 
visit, but on such a day, and in my then depressed 
state of spirits, the building appeared to me gloomy in 
the extreme. 

On stating my errand, after having passed through 
its grim portal, I was directed up-stairs to No. 11. On 
the head wall of the first landing was a life-sized cru- 
cifix, one of those hideous pieces of wood-carving, 
painted in the hues of death, with masses of clotted 
blood issuing from hands and feet and breast and fore- 
head. In that cold, biting air, in that bare, white cor- 
ridor, lonely and deserted, this lank, naked form looked 
like some horrible specimen from the dissecting-room, 
hung up and spread out as a target for the blood- 
reeking scalpels to slash into. 

It served to prepare me for what was in the room 
beyond. I opened the door and entered. The window 
was open to let in the cold, foggy air; there was a 
strong smell of vinegar in the small apartment, which 
contained only a narrow bed, a chair, and a common 
table. On the bed lay stretched the body of the young 
man. I thought I had never seen a corpse so emaci- 
ated ; it seemed as if everything had been sucked out 
of his frame by the fever, leaving nothing but some 
rags of skin to cover the bones with. As I looked 
upon that poor ghost, so cruelly exposed to the piercing 
air, so deserted, and lying unwatched, uncared for in 
that dull, bare room, I could not help wondering what 
his folks at home might be doing just at that moment, 
not knowing that their son was dead (for they had not 



A GHOST STORY, 141 

yet been telegraphed to), and I pictured to myself 
their anguish when the bell rang to usher in to them 
the dreadful news. 

When I went down-stairs again I gave a few direc- 
tions to an attendant whom I found there, which I 
knew would be acceptable to the relatives of the de- 
ceased, and left. 

The same afternoon the corpse was taken to the 
cemetery, to be laid out at the " dead-house" until the 
day of the funeral. The young man belonged to a 
Catholic family, and the funeral services were con- 
ducted according to the rites of the Eoman Church. 
The priests came out to the hospital (it was not the 
city hospital, but a private one, somewhat out of the 
built-up part of the town) with their banners and 
censers and crucifix to take charge of the body and to 
escort the hearse to the graveyard. As the coffin, now 
placed upon the bier, stood in the bleak hall-way of the 
building, the priests ranged themselves on either side 
and muttered in hoarse, croaking tones the Latin 
prayers for the dead. The priests themselves looked 
as if mortification were beginning to set in on the ex- 
posed parts of their bodies, so gaunt were they, and 
so blue and pinched from the cold. It was quite a con- 
solation to me to notice one of them diligently plying 
his snuif-box while the service was being performed, for 
the action had something reassuring in it, — it at least 
suggested life and the requirements of the flesh. 

On the third day was the interment. I tried to get 
as many Americans as possible to attend, although, as 
I said before, there were very few who had known the 
deceased. 

The weather had continued just the same as it had 
been the day of the death. 

At the cemetery gloom reigned supreme. In the 
city there was still life and activity and sound strug- 
gling through the fog and cold ; but hero, with the few 
people moving slowly and silently about in front of the 
glass windows of the arcade, and the rows of quiet, 
stiff bodies within, each waiting for its turn to bo 
shovelled into the earth, it was brought painfully to 



142 A GHOST STORY, 

my mind that we on the outside of the " dead-house" 
were only there on sufferance, soon to take our places, 
too, on the sable tressels, and to fall into the ranks of 
the "innumerable caravan that moves to that myste- 
rious realm," — to that crushing sleep whose dreams 
may be so frightful. 

I approached the window and peered through it, and 
there, among a score of others as ghastly as himself, 
lay the American lad with the usual flowers grouped 
around him, with the usual sickly-yellow light of the 
wax candles shedding their weak rays on him. 

The funeral was to take place at four o'clock, which 
is about the latest hour for interments here, the less 
pretentious ones taking place at half-past two or three. 

One by one the victims for that day had been brought 
out from the charnel-house, the coffin-lid closed upon 
them, and then, standing for a few moments under the 
arcades till all was ready, had been lifted on to the 
threadbare shoulders of the rusty little bow-legged pall- 
bearers — themselves looking like cinders and ashes — to 
be totteringly borne by them to the open grave, there 
to be packed away at last, out of sight. And each 
time that dismal procession starts the bell of the chapel 
jangles dolefully the parting salute. 

Our turn was soon to come ; the dirty light of the 
short winter day was growing dimmer. I spoke with 
the disconsolate relatives of the poor boy. At such a 
moment they felt themselves more strange and lone- 
some than ever in a strange land. Their feelings, 
worked up to an excited pitch of sensitiveness, were 
jarred by witnessing the undemonstrative and busi- 
ness-like way in which the funerals were conducted. 

With us, the undertaker is an artist in his line. 
There is so much elegance and exquisite subduing of 
the harshness of bereavement manifested in all his 
doings, that we are almost reconciled to the unceremo- 
nious way in which death officially intrudes upon us. In 
his quiet, gentlemanly way he tries to make it comfort- 
able for all parties, — for his client in the coffin, and for 
those who follow after, and who are later to find out 
what expensive luxuries stylish funerals are. 



A GHOST STORY, I43 

It was probably the contrast between the ways of 
Munich and our waj-s that made the ladies view with 
especial horror those snuify and dilapidated males with 
their napless hats and shiny garments (which once were 
sable), that take charge of the corpses as if they were 
their own special property. The ladies had a small 
golden cross and a wreath of flowers which they wished 
to have laid on the breast of the deceased before the 
coffin was closed, but did not want the hands of those 
rough men to touch, to pollute them, and they asked 
me as a favor to do it for them. I applied to the 
proper officer for entrance, and was admitted into the 
hall of the dead by a small door at the rear, which 
was again closed after me. 

It was my first appearance in such company; I was 
a stranger, but I needed no introduction. There were 
about twenty bodies lying out in state, not lying flat, 
but tilted up at a convenient angle so that they could 
be better viewed from without through the plate-glass 
windows, — as if to show what a varied assortment of 
stock goods death had on hand. Edging through the 
rows of these quiet ladies and gentlemen, I was care- 
ful not to brush against the plants which rise pyramid- 
ically around each bier. It made me shudder to think 
that if I accidentally upset one of those tall bushes 
the noise might startle the sleepers and cause them to 
turn uneasily, or even to raise the head. The idea of 
carelessly knocking against one of the wires coming 
down from the ceiling was still more horrible. What 
— I thought — if one of those bells should commence 
ringing of itself, — what if I should see some white 
hand moving, — what if some of these poor ghosts were 
to come to life again, — what if I were to see their 
gasping struggles, — what if one were to clutch hold of 
me in its efforts to fight for life again ? Perhaps it was 
nervousness on my part ; perhaps it was the pungent 
smell of burning wax in that close atmosphere or the 
stifling odor of wilting flowers, or perhaps of some- 
thing even worse, that made me feel weak and shaky. 
At any rate, the situation was a novel one to me, to 
say the least. 1 peribrmed my errand and deposited 



144 A GHOST STORY. 

the flowers and the cross, — the one on the breast, the 
other in the dead man's unoccupied hand. In enter- 
ing, I ^had come in from behind, but turning now to 
depart, I had all the faces turned towards me, and I 
fancied that they had been watching me surreptitiously 
through the narrow slit between the partially-closed 
eyelids. 

It was a relief to rae to get out again, to be among 
the living. 

The funeral service was performed, and, following the 
example of the priest, as he spoke '' earth to earth, dust 
to dust, ashes to ashes," each person approached the 
open grave in turn and threw in his three little spade- 
fuls of frozen earth and stones, which went rattling 
down on the coffin-lid ; it was the last knock at the 
door of that narrow house whose occupant is always at 
home, yet will not open to us. 

The mourning relatives and friends dispersed. It 
was now quite dark. I felt dejected, but, on going into 
the city again, the reviving influence of the brightly 
lighted coffee-house, the perusal of the newspapers, and 
the meeting with acquaintances served to dispel for a 
time the gloomy recollections of the scenes I had just 
passed through. But at night they came back again 
with redoubled force, and falling, at last, into an un- 
easy slumber, it was hard to tell where waking thought 
ended and dreaming commenced, for the same subject 
ran through both. 

After midnight, I suppose it was between two and 
three o'clock, there was a violent ring at the outside 
street door. The servants slept at the back part of the 
house, and not wanting to disturb them, I quickly put 
on my wrapper and looked out of the front window, 
but could see no one at the door. I called down, but 
there was no answer. I began to think it was some 
delusion, and was about returning to bed when the bell 
rang a second time. It was possible that the person 
had taken refuge within the deep door-jamb and that I 
could not be heard calling from the window, for the 
night had become stormy, and the wind moaned through 
the streets and set everything that was loose to rattling. 



A GHOST STORY. 145 

I seized the lamp and went down-stairs, and into the 
broad carriage entrance which all the Munich houses 
have, and calling, before opening the door, as one 
generally does at that hour of the night, and alone 
(not that one's afraid, you know), "Who's there?" a 
trembling voice answered, " It's I. Where's Eobbie?" 

I am quick at forming conclusions. It at once went 
through my brain that at the beginning of the young 
man's illness his family had been written to stating how 
critical his case was, — that some one had at once started 
off to come to him, — that he had just arrived, too late 
by three days, and that, not having the address of the 
young man's relatives in Munich, he had naturally come 
at once to the consul, not knowing yet of the death that 
had taken place. It might be the father or a brother. 

I opened the door cautiously, but a sudden gust of 
the storm forced it wide. I had set down the lamp on 
the bottom step leading from the entrance-way, and it 
now shed its glare on — oh, God I I reeled back against 
the wall ; no being of living blood was before me, but 
gaunt and stark and livid stood that dead man, — no 
wreath on his breast, no cross in his hand, but escaped 
from his coffin nevertheless. I gazed on him in terror, 
and the same terror seemed to be reflected in his coun- 
tenance. I could not speak, I could not move, for I 
felt that at the least attempt to move the ghost would 
follow me. The wind had blown the door shut again, 
or I would have rushed into the street ; but now I was 
barred in with that dread presence opposite me, and 
with no means of escaping from it. I could not help 
noticing, however, that for the first few moments the 
spirit seemed as ill at ease as I was myself. 

It gasped out, "Where's Bobbie?" 

I answered, " He is dead ; we buried him this after- 
noon, and you know it." 

"Oh I no, no," it said in a hollow voice, "do not toll 
me that!" 

"Bobbie is dead," I repeated ; " we buried him this 
afternoon." 

" Give mo your hand," it said ; " conduct me to his 
grave." 

^ 18 



146 A GHOST STORY, 

I shuddered. The idea of making a midnight excur- 
sion to such a place, and in such company, was enough 
to make the cold shoot along my spine as if icicles were 
trickling down from my collar. 

" You do not know who I am," said th« apparition. 
" I have forgotten to introduce myself." 

I tremblingly replied, " If my senses do not deceive 
me you are Eobbie yourself; but how you came here 
I cannot understand, — my brain is reeling, — I am not 
quite well, sir." 

The ghost only groaned, '' Oh, poor Eobbie, poor 
Eobbie! Oh, how will his mother stand this!" 

The tones of his voice now began to sound more 
human to me, for I was gradually collecting myself, 
and my fear was not as great as in the beginning. 
The spectre, if such it was, grew more corporeal in 
appearance, and I by degrees noticed that it wore 
different clothes from those in which the corpse had 
been dressed. Getting the better of myself, I at last 
ventured to ask the stranger who he was. 

He said, "I am Eobbie's brother, — his twin brother; 
I started from America on first hearing the news that 
Eobbie was so ill, and now I have arrived to find I 
am too late after all. Oh, how will our mother stand 
this!" 

The mystery was cleared ; the brother, who, I could 
now perceive, resembled Eobbie, the dead boy, as closely 
as one egg resembles another, haggard from anxiety 
and long, uninterrupted travel, night and day, pre- 
sented such a picture of those poor remains of mortality 
that only a few hours before we had sunk into the 
earth, that I mistook the living for the dead. But I 
had received a great shock. When (after assuring my 
visitor that I would call on hjm the first thing in the 
morning, and having directed him to a hotel close by) 
I again reached my bed, I found myself in a feverish 
state, my temples throbbing, and with a dull, thudding 
pain down my shoulders, and with such a feeling of 
weakness that I could scarcely lift my head. 

I was afraid it was the beginning of a dangerous 
illness. 



THE RIGHT MAN IN THE RIGHT PLACE. 147 

I trust my readers will forgive me for misleading 
them by giving such a grim title to this narrative of 
one of my experiences. The circumstances relating to 
the illness, the death and burial of the young Amer- 
ican, are written as they actually occurred, without 
any attempt at embellishment; in fact, it is but the 
simple recital of my connection with a case, of which, 
unfortunately, there were several similar ones during 
my stay in Munich. The particulars given, up to the 
quitting of the graveyard after the burial, are of re- 
alities, — the rest was but a troubled dream, induced no 
doubt by the mind lingering on the subject that had 
engrossed it through the day, and by my not being 
well at the time. But the dream seemed to dovetail 
in so naturally as a sequel to the day's experience, that 
I have been tempted to write it down too. 

On one occasion, having attended to the sending of 
the remains of a deceased American to his home, I re- 
ceived a letter of thanks from the father. It was very 
hearty in tone, written with simple earnestness, though 
somewhat ungrammatically ; but it did me good to 
have it. It concluded : " You place me under many 
obligations for your great kindness to the departed. 
Such acts of kindness to one in a strange land go to 
show that the American Government do sometimes put 
the right man in the right place." 

I felt very much flattered by the above compliment, 
but it was not long before I was considerably taken 
down in my own estimation. 

A consul, of course, by reason of his supposed knowl- 
edge of the worth of all things which affect his consular 
district, should be a nice discriminater ; he should bo 
able to go into specialities — it is expected of him, — but 
when a rather scrawny female comes to him to consult 
him as to the merits of a certain doctor to whom she 
has been recommended, and puts the question, '* Well, 
now, consul, is Doctor Lebcrflock more for the kidneys 
or for the spleen ?" he is rather taken aback. 

I must say I felt very much iishiimod of myself for 



148 ^07^ KNOWING WHO PEOPLE ARE. 

not being able to give the desired information, and I 
had uncomfortable doubts that day as to whether I 
really was the right man for the office. 



CHAPTEE XI. 



Not knowing who people are — The lady and the bum-bailiff — Royal 
bronze foundry ; business there — Information sought on art matters — 
Casts of ^gina marbles — Stained-glass windows — Iron railing for 
church — Measuring picture-frames — Request for photographs of build- 
ings — Request for photographs of Kaulbach's drawings — Exact copy 
of photograph on porcelain — Pictures of old masters for sale — Requests 
for postage-stamps — Our newspapers instruct the people — ** Lick, 
brothers, lick, oh, lick with care" — Franco-German war — Terrified lady 
and the flag — Letters : is it safe to be in Munich — Forlorn situation of 
group of ladies — Treatment of French prisoners — Return of troops j 
banquet — Trial of two Irish ladies for insulting a corporal. 

I HAVE always had a bungling way of not knowing 
at the right moment who and what people are whom 
I have already met, — but only casuallj^ met, — that is, as 
the saying goes, I do not know where to place them. 
I feel that I know them, but cannot call to mind where, 
when, and under what circumstances I have seen them. 
It is not so much the name that bothers me, — that 
would soon occur to me if I only could recollect what 
the person is. In such perplexing predicaments I have 
to run through my mental speculations in a certain 
order: I think, first, is it somebody I have bought 
something of, going over in my mind all the businesses 
I am accustomed to dealing with ; is it somebody in 
the shop where -I buy my books, my stationer}^, 
my groceries, clothing, fancy-goods? Is it perhaps my 
bookbinder, carpenter, locksmith, plumber ? Is it some- 
body that is in the habit of bringing things to my 
house, — is it perhaps some person in some public office 
with whom I have had to do ? Is it perhaps some one 
whom I have by chance scraped acquaintance with or 
have been introduced to at some cati^ ? Or is it, even, 
some person whom I have never known, but who has 



THE LADY AND THE BUM-BAILIFF, 149 

only been pointed out to me as such and such a one ? 
Have I seen him in company, or alone ? Were the cir- 
cumstances under which I came in contact with him 
pleasant or otherwise ? When all these combinations 
fail me, I have to leave to chance the unravelling of my 
mental entanglement. I know that in the course of 
conversation some allusion to something or other will 
all at once solve the difficulty ; but in the mean time I 
am quite absent-minded whilst talking, for it is con- 
stantly going through my brain, " Who the mischief 
can this person be ?" and I can't get down to the proper 
tide and flow of conversation till that point is settled. 
Sometimes the party (if he or she is anyways smart), 
noticing my blank looks, comes at once to the rescue, 
saying, " Perhaps you remember me, I am so and so." 

That this awkward failing of mine often leads to 
embarrassing situations may be readily imagined. With 
persons who by virtue of their prominence in official, 
or social, or business stations I ought to recognize at 
once, I am often as distant as the moon, but then I 
make up for that by sometimes treating with the 
greatest cordiality and consideration a party who even- 
tually emerges out of the cloudiness of my speculations 
as the man who used to blacken my boots last year, or 
the man who helped to move my furniture, or the man 
who once bored me to buy some bad cigars of him. 

There was a lady, the wife of an American physician 
in , whom I had known personally some years be- 
fore (both are dead now, alas !), came to me in a state 
of great nervousness and perturbation for my advice 
and assistance. Her story was as follows. But don't 
think, my dear reader, that I got the grip of it as easily 
as you will do, for I had to hear it mostly hind part 
first, and even this backward course was so impeded in 
its flow by stumbling over ejaculations, parenthetical 
sentences, sobs and sighs, and " fii'stlies" and " lastlies,'* 
that to me it was pretty much like guessing at some 
complicated charade. Disentangled and straightened 
out, the simple story was this : 

A day or two before, the lady had hired a cab for 
the purpose of taking a drive, and had hired it by the 



150 THE LADY AND THE BUM-BAILIFF. 

hour, starting from her hotel. After seeing the sights, 
and wishing to go to the opera, as it was now drawing 
on towards evening, she told the driver to take her to 
the Royal Theatre, where she jun\ped out eager to 
secure her ticket (for it was already late), forgetting 
both her parasol, which she left lying in the carriage, 
and — to pay the driver. The next morning early the 
driver came to the hotel, bringing back the parasol, and 
demanding pay from the time the lady had taken him 
in the afternoon till midnight. 

The poor lady, for her evening's entertainment, had 
picked out one of Wagner's longest operas, which was 
not over till long after eleven o'clock. 

The cabman's case was as follows : the lady not pay- 
ing him when she entered the theatre, and leaving her 
parasol in the cab, he supposed he was to wait for 
her until the end of the opera, — which he did. He 
waited till the last party had left the house ; he waited 
till all the lamps were put out, but no call was made 
for his number. He now looked at his watch, and 
added the time it would have taken to drive the lady 
back to the hotel if she had put in an appearance, and 
took his horses home to their stable. 

Being a man of gallantry, he could not disturb the 
lady at that late hour of the night by asking for his 
pay, but the next morning he drives to the hotel to 
present his bill, adding again to it the time he loses 
thereby. The lady refused to pay the bill, which 
amounted to a pretty large figure (much larger than 
was pleasant to her), saying that she had simply for- 
gotten to pay on leaving the vehicle, and that she 
would onl}^ settle the fare up to that time. 

Jehu, who considered his claim perfectly legitimate, 
stuck to it, and, having to do with a stranger, who 
might be off at any moment, quickly drove to the police 
court, had his little claim put on paper, properly 
stamped, and then took it to the nearest sheriff's officer 
(Gerichtsvollzieher) for collection. As he did all this 
on wheels, of course the amount of his bill kept swelling 
proportionally, — gathering as it went, like a snow-ball 
rolled through the snow. 



THE LADY AND THE BUM-BAILIFF. 151 

When the man of the law appeared at the hotel with 
the bill she again refused to pay, which refusal was 
promptly noted down by the officer, and so the lady 
received a summons the next day to appear at the local 
police court. She took no notice of the summons, but 
she was not a little surprised and terrified when, a short 
time after, the sheriffs officer again came, armed with 
the original bill of the driver, and embellished with a 
rider of several more florins for costs, and told her that 
he must have the money at once or he would attach 
her trunks for payment. In her distress the lady 
rushed over to the consulate, telling the officer he must 
at least wait till she had spoken to the consul. 

Such, in substance, was the lady's story, got at by 
degrees, partly through her own recital and partly 
through after-developments. People were coming in 
with invoices all the time, and her story was often 
interrupted. She was quite bathed in tears, and she 
was just telling in violent terms what a ruffian the 
sheriff's officer was and how brusquely and peremptorily 
be had demanded her money or her — trunks, w^hen a 
knock came at the door, and a gentleman entered. 

The gentleman's face was not quite strange to me, 
and it seemed to me that I had met him somewhere 
before. I did not know just where to place him, but a 
certain twinkle in his eye made me, stupidlj" enough, 
think that I had met him in jolly company — perhaps 
at some club ; at any rate, as he advanced towards me 
I met him half-way, grasped" him warmly by the hand, 
smiled, and asked him to take a seat awhile, and to ex- 
cuse me for a few moments. At the same time I 
begged the lady, who had suddenly risen from her 
chair, to accompany me to the adjoining room, which 
was more private. The lady, however, stood quite 
transfixed, in a violent tremble of excitement, — first 
viewing the stranger with disdain and rejnignance, and 
giving me a searching look which made my very hair 
freeze; but she was unable to utter a word. The man 
slowly produced a roll of foolscap paper and a pen which 
he carried in a little case in his pocket. Here was a 
pretty mess I had made. The tall, bhind man in hia 



152 THE LADY AND THE BUM-BAILIFF, 

gray suit and spectacles was the sheriff's officer himself, 
— the Gerichtsvollzieher. I had on a former occasion 
had some business with him, and therefore knew that 
I knew him, but on his entrance I had unfortunately 
connected him in my mind with some quite different 
occasion. 

One can imagine the consul's situation : a lady comes 
to her official representative to seek redress for injuries 
received at the hands of a low German bum-bailiff, and 
he (the consul) gives a cordial welcome to the fellow 
who had dogged her steps from the hotel to the con- 
sulate, so as not to lose sight of her. 

What could I do ? I couldn't take back that friendly 
grip, — I couldn't take back the smile that had spon- 
taneously lighted my countenance with my greeting of 
the stranger. 

I humbly apologized to the lady and offered my 
explanations, trying to convince her of the peculiar 
alienation of my powers of recognition with regard to 
individuals not intimately concatenated with my affec- 
tions. But neither big words nor plain words had 
any soothing effect ; the lady kept looking at me in a 
petrified manner, as if she were inwardly saying, " It's 
too thin ; please don't exert yourself" 

There was no apology to make to the man, of 
course ; on the contrary, I tried to wipe out my former 
cordiality by giving him the blackest kind of a scowl, 
and asking him how he dared come into the consulate 
in that manner without announcing himself, and thus 
making me mistake him for some one else. The words 
I gave that man ought to have somewhat reconciled 
the lady, but the mischief of it was, that all this had to 
be said in German, and the lady did not understand 
much of that language, so I was still laboring under a 
disadvantage, and was still the object of her distrust. 

The man was now about to speak, but mj^ fair client 
energetically thrust him aside, and said, without taking 
much notice of me, " First I am going to speak, — I'm 
an American, — here, at the consulate, we're in Amer- 
ica." She then poured forth a very robust strain of 
general matter, not altogether complimentary, and as 



THE LADY AND THE BUM-BAILIFF. 153 

all this was done in English I was eased in knowing 
that the man did not understand what she said. 

When I was at last able to get a gentle word of 
inquiry into the subject, the lady explained that she 
did not go to the police court, firstly, because she did 
not know what the paper that had been brought to her 
meant ; that even if she had gone, she would not have 
been able to understand the judge, nor any one else ; 
and, secondly, because she had determined not to do 
anything in the matter without first seeing the consul 
(and she knew that yesterday it was already after 
office hours); and, thirdly, because she was convinced 
the whole thing was a swindle, and she wouldn't be 
imposed on. 

The man, on his side, showed me a duly executed 
order of the court to collect the demand of the cab- 
driver with the costs added, which now alone amounted 
to more than the original demand. My visitor was in 
a state of trembling fury, and eyed me like a lynx to 
see whose part I was going to take. I could not help 
expressing my opinion that in the case before mc I 
was afraid that not much could be done, and that any 
further refusal on the lady's part might only cause her 
further annoyance. At that, — giving me a look of 
scorn that was enough to wither up the whole con- 
sulate, and even to make the unoffending eagle wilt, — 
she jerked a bank-note out of her purse, threw it on 
the table, and vanished through the door. The amount 
of the note was greater than the man's claim. I rushed 
out and called after her to take the change, but she 
gave no heed, — and was gone. The officer was paid, 
and he vanished too, leaving a receipt for the money. 

My dreams that night were of a troubled kind. It 
seemed to me that I was in the presence of my great- 
grandmother, and of a wolf who was preparing to oat 
her up. Instead of trying to defend helpless innocence, 
as I should have done, I found myself shaking hands 
with the wolf, who, in punishment for m}^ want of gal- 
lantry, suddenly turned round and fell on me instead 
of my grandmother. 



154 THE ROYAL BRONZE FOUNDRY. 

I don't know whether I felt more relieved or abashed 
next morning, on receiving a few hurried lines from 
the lady begging me to overlook her apparent hasty 
manner in leaving the consulate, but, she said, she was 
ill and nervous, and not being accustomed to such pro- 
ceedings as had been taken against her by a detestable 
cabman, she had lost control of her faculties of just 
perception. She asked me to give the remaining money 
to the " first case of charity that came along." 

The poor gained a trifle by this transaction, and I 
gained something too, — it was a lesson to me, always 
to find out first whether a presumed acquaintance was 
a sheriff's officer or not before I extend my hand to 
him in friendly greeting. 

The Eoyal Bronze Foundry at Munich has done a 
great deal of work for America. I need only allude to 
the door of the Capitol at Washington, the equestrian 
colossal statue of Washington at Eichmond, and the 
Probasco fountain at Cincinnati ; there are a score of 
others. These works, with the exception of the last 
named, are by American artists, mostly by those living 
in Eome and Florence. 

1 often had business at the foundry: it was some- 
times at the request of the artist to report to him how 
his work was getting on ; it was sometimes on the 
part of the founder, to give a certificate that certain 
works were finished ; it was sometimes in behalf of 
some art association at home, to negotiate for the cast- 
ing of some group of statuary for our parks. Some- 
times applications were made through the medium of 
the consul to get permission to have copies made of 
statuary in State or royal possession in various cities 
of Germany. 

The foundry is well worth a visit. In the museum 
connected with it are the plaster models of all tho 
works that have been cast there. Americans will be 
surprised to see what a number of these works are in 
our possession. 

It will readily be supposed that a consul living in 
Munich is frequently called upon to furnish informa- 



INFORMATION SOUGHT ON ART MATTERS. 155 

tion on matters connected with art, — as to the facilities 
for studying them, as to the requirements for entering 
the Academy, as to whether there are classes for ladies 
there, as to what the chances are of being taken into 
the studies of certain artists as pupils, as to wliether 
strangers are allowed to copy in the galleries and so 
forth. He is often asked for his counsel by intending 
students as to the proper steps to be taken by them for 
accomplishing their object, and he is often requested to 
give them letters of introduction to leading painters 
and sculptors. 

On the part of one of our colleges the consul was 
written to to negotiate for the purchase and trans- 
portation of casts of the ^gina marbles (the figures 
from the pediments of the temple of Minerva on the 
island of ^gina, discovered in 1811, and which are at 
present among the most valuable of the classic marbles 
in the Glyptothek). Then, again, he is asked by church 
committees to send designs and estimates of cost of 
stained-glass windows (for the production of which 
Munich is famed). Anon he is taken in tow by a rev- 
erend gentleman to visit the workshops of artistic 
blacksmiths to see what they are able to do and to get 
their prices for making a Gothic church railing. But 
there is always something to be learned in such expe- 
ditions; one gets an insight into many things that 
were strange to one before. I am fond of knocking 
around workshops and factories; I like to see how 
things are made. Sometimes the consul is asked to 
perform much humbler services, as, for instance, to take 
the measures of certain gold frames that have been or- 
dered for pictures, to see that they are all right, and no 
mistakes made in the sizes. Innumerable were the re- 
quests to send photographs of the public buildings, the 
public men of Munich, of paintings and statuary in the 
galleries. One party (it was very shocking) even pre- 
sumed to ask the consul to buy for him certain of 
Kaulbach's drawings (extravagancies of his earlier 
years), well known to all artists, but which it would 
never do to expose to public view. 

Speaking of the photographs reminds me of a tick- 



156 ABOUT PHOTOGRAPHS. 

lish case I once had. A gentleman wanted to have a 
photograph made on porcelain, and wrote to me to give 
him the name of the best person to do it, and his price. 
I made the inquiries and sent him the address. In a 
few days he wrote again, thanking me, and saying, 
"Enclosed is a photograph on paper. I want an exact 
copy of it. If you think it can be done, please give the 
order to have it done at once. But, if you think it can 
not be done, please save yourself the trouble and me the 
expense ; and what to me is of more consequence than 
the latter, the necessity of keeping and looking at an 
unsatisfactory result, as I am now doing, for I have had 
a portrait done on porcelain by the best artist here with 
this result, although he tried to copy this identical pho- 
tograph." 

Now, could I take it upon myself to hold the balance 
of that man's huppiness or unhappiness in my hand ? 
Suppose that picture were not to turn out perfect, as 
most likely it would not, my conscience would never 
be easy when the situation of that unfortunate gentle- 
man, at being under the *' necessity of keeping and 
looking at an unsatisfactory result," presented itself to 
my mind. He expected too much of me ; he wanted 
me to judge beforehand whether a photograph on 
porcelain was going to turn out all right, and I was to 
decide for him whether to order it or not, and if the 
picture did not come up to his expectations, then the 
blame was to be laid at my door. I returned him his 
photograph on paper, and told him that I was always 
happy to be of service to my countrymen abroad 
whenever it was in my power, etc., but could not 
help adding (this is sarkassum, as Artemus Ward would 
have said), "however flattered I may feel by the confi- 
dence you repose in my judgment, I must beg leave 
to decline the honor of accepting the responsibility of 
ordering the picture for you, as I cannot possibly know 
what your criterion of an exact copy and a satisfactory 
result may be." 

It is astonishing what a number of genuine pictures 
of old masters (no mistake about them) are lying 



BEQUESTS FOR POSTAGE-STAMPS. 157 

around loose. I would never have supposed it had not 
several parties in Munich come to the consulate offer- 
ing them for sale. Some of these people thought that 
most likely there were lots of rich Americans that 
would like to become the possessors of such simon- 
pure bits of canvas ; some had heard — even read it in 
the papers, though they could never produce the 
papers — that a national art gallery was to be established 
at Washington, and that the consul was empowered to 
buy for it. 

But the humblest of wants in the artistic line are for 
complete galleries of portraits of our great men ; in 
other words, for postage-stamps. Similar requests, in 
great numbers, come from people at home for foreign 
stamps.^ It appears the mania lor collecting these used- 
up bits of paper has not yet died out. 

Anent postage-stamps, yet a few words. 

Our newspapers tend to educate our people in many 
ways. One of the peculiar institutions of all our papers 
are the so-called paragraphs, — sometimes drawn up in 
regular columns, but oftencr scattered throughout the 
body of the paper, and stuck in between the most im- 
portant political items or the most serious articles. I 
believe these are more universally read than many of 
the heavier parts. They are generally clothed in a 
humorous form, but are always concise, terse, and to 
the point. They catch the eye and can be read at a 
glance. They are often arranged pyramidicall}^ de- 
creasing in length from the bottom upwards, so that 
the top sentence sometimes only consists of three or 
four pithy words, but full of meaning ; perhaps it is 
only a joke or a pun. I do not hesitate to admit that 
I never let the funny parts of a paper escape me. 
I take them all down, even if I only skim over the 
more serious news. But these paragraphs often con- 
tain useful and practical hints, and, because they are 
eagerly copied from paper to paper, and fly like winged 
words throughout the length and breadth of our hind, 
they become popuhir in the counting house of the mer- 
chant, in the luxurious parlors of the rich, in the houses 

14 



158 NEWSPAPERS INSTRUCT THE PEOPLE, 

of the poor, in the school-rooms and factories, and in 
the log cabins of the remotest settlers. 

I beg to refer only to one instance to better explain 
this theory. 

Post-office clerks, in cancelling the stamps on lettere 
and newspapers by printing the date and the title of 
their office upon them, work with amazing celerity, 
shoving one letter after another forward with the left 
hand while plying the stamp with the right. This goes 
almost as quick as thought, provided the stamps are 
put on the proper place, — that is, on the right-hand top 
corner of the envelope ; but let a stamp be to the left, 
or at the bottom of the letter, the clerk is immediately 
put out of swing ; it is like a sudden break in some 
swiftly-moving machine ; it is like a stumbling-block 
put in the way of a racer going over a smooth course ; 
I believe post-office clerks sometimes forget their Sun- 
day-school training at such moments. 

In my long experience as a receiver of letters from 
all sorts of people, I may remark that I have had 
scarcely more than two or three letters coming from 
America, even from quite illiterate and ordinary per- 
sons, where the stamp was not in the right place, 
whereas letters coming from Germany and other coun- 
tries almost as often as not have the stamp down in 
the corner or to the left, or sometimes even on the back 
of the letter. One party, evidently fond of symmetry, 
on a letter which required four stamps, put one on 
each corner of the envelope. It had a pretty effect, 
but I am afraid the stamping clerk said at least four 
times " donnerwetter" over it. 

Now, w^hy is it that our people as a rule know where 
the stamp must be placed ? Is it not in a great measure 
owing to the promulgation of those lines which, a few 
years ago, went the rounds of all our newspapers, and 
were so affectionately and fraternally addressed to the 
whole mass of our people ? — 

" Lick, brothers, lick, oh, lick with care 
A one-cent stamp for a circulare, 
A two-cent stamp for a newspapare, 
And a three-cent stamp for a sealed lettare. 



FRANCO-GERMAN WAR, 159 

Stuck on the right-hand top cornare, 
Not scattered all over everywhere. 
Unless you want the postmastare 
To get in a rage and curse and swear. 
Then lick, brothers, lick, oh, lick with care, 
And stick on the right-hand top cornare.** 

Now, if Herr Stephan, the great Imperial Postmaster 
of Germany, to whom are due so many improvements 
in the postal system and whose genius is recognized 
by all nations, would pay a liberal sum to a Teutonic 
poet to translate the above classical effusion into equally 
classic German, and would induce the Imperial police 
to extend the freedom of the press to allow the article 
to be printed in every paper in the realm, he would be 
adding one more laurel to those he has already so justly 
won. 

War is at all times terrible, and no matter how 
distant its scene of action may be, we all know into 
what a state of consternation all non-combatants are 
thrown when war approaches the borders of their 
country. Even foreigners temporarily sojourning in 
the land are none the less perturbed, because they are 
not certain whether, in the havoc made by contending 
armies, the rights of neutrals will always be respected. 

It was just after the war broke out between France 
and Germany that a lady came to me in a state of great 
trepidation, wanting to know if it were true that the 
French were coming to Munich. I told her that the 
French had promised to go to Berlin, and, being a very 
polite nation, no doubt they would keep their engage- 
ment. They had not yet definitely stated on what day 
they were coming to Munich, but the Bavarian govern- 
ment was certainly making every necessary arrangement 
for their reception. The works of art in the galleries 
and in the museum and in the other collections, and the 
jewels in the palace, were being hastily packed away 
and hidden in places of safety, probably that there 
might be more room in these public buildings for the 
entertaining of the great numbers of Turkos and Spa- 
his and other French gentlemen who might be ex- 
pected at any moment. 



160 FORLORN GROUP OF LADIES, 

I am sorry to say that the lady trembled even more 
violently than at first, and I had really only intended 
to soothe her. 

At last she burst out with, "Well, if the French do 
come, and butcher and burn all before them, they are, 
at least, bound to respect the American consulate. I 
shall rush up here and wrap myself in the American 
flag, and shall sleep on the staircase in front of your 
door." 

1 promised her, in such an emergenc}'', the use of a 
flag, and she went away somewhat calmed. 

Many were the letters from parties abroad inquiring 
whether it would be safe or " pleasant" to be in Munich 
during the war. Some had heard that the city was 
full of wounded and sick soldiers, and that disease was 
spreading alarmingly among the population. One per- 
son wrote, saying, war having been " declared between 
France and Prussia would bring Bavaria into the 
theatre of the war," and concluded, " I would be very 
much obliged for your opinion whether it is safe for us 
to come, and in how far you could protect Americans 
in case of a French invasion." 

But fancy the forlorn situation of a group of unfor- 
tunates, one of whose number writes: "Excuse my 
troubling you, but I never was in such a helpless place : 
we are some ten families here, English and American, 
without a man among them; we get no newspapers but 
the local ones, that know nothing but rumors that keep 
us in continual anxiety, so that it is really a charity to 
give one correct information." 

Many were the inquiries, too, as to the treatment 
of certain French prisoners in Munich. An afl'ecting 
letter came from a poor woman at Lyons, begging me 
to find out if her son were perhaps a prisoner of war at 
Munich, — she had not heard from him for four months. 
I was unable to give the disheartened mother comfort- 
ing news ; her son was not to be found in Munich. 

On a bright, sunny day in July, 1871, the Bavarian 
troops, which had so distinguished themselves in the 
war for their bravery, returned to the capital, the 
streets of which were magnificently decorated, and 



INSULTING A CORPORAL. 161 

many persons who had seen the streets of Berlin 
when the Prussian troops entered that city, confessed 
that Munich, in artistic arrangement, quite outdid the 
capital of the Empire. The foreign representatives at 
Munich received cards for places on the diplomatic 
stand in front of the Odeon, where the king, on a su- 
perh horse, with his staff, awaited the coming of the 
Crown Prince of Germany at the head of the troops. 
In the evening there was a grand banquet in the im- 
mense enclosure of the crystal palace, where some 
three thousand guests were seated. The Crown 
Prince attended, but the King of Bavaria, of course, 
was not there : he had gone off by extra train to one 
of his castles in the country. He had not, personally, 
taken any part in the war ; he did not want, personally, 
to take any part in the festivities. 

The great drama of war was not without its after- 
piece. 

There were a couple of ladies sojourning at the time 
in Munich. They were not Americans, but Irish 
ladies, with whom I was personally acquainted. They 
were zealous Catholics, and their sj^mpathies were en- 
tirely with the French. One of these ladies had been 
in the habit of visiting the French prisoners at the 
military hospital, and in addition to her words of 
comfort, and the cheering influence of her presence, 
brought further joy to the hearts of the captive war- 
riors in the form of tobacco and cigars, wine, jam, and 
sausages. Perhaps her conversation with the prisoners 
was such as flavored too strongly of invective against 
the German cause ; at any rate, after she had been con- 
tinuing her visits for several weeks, she was much as- 
tonished one day, when she went there with her cus- 
tomary little basket of material comforts in her hand, 
at the Bavarian corporal on guard telling her that he 
had orders from his colonel not to admit her any more. 
She tried to push her way past him nevertheless, when 
the corporal quickly barred the door to the room with 
his musket. Seeing herself thus cut off from entrance, 
she turned her moral forces against the unlucky cor- 



162 INSULTING A CORPORAL. 

poral, and told him in Germanic phrase but with Mile- 
sian ardor that he had no business to intercept her 
passage, and that if she only had money enough to fee 
him well, she knew he would let her in. 

The corporal's honor was assailed at its weakest 
point, and he brought a charge against her in court for 
defamation of character. 

On receiving the summons to appear, the lady with 
her friend came to me and begged me, as a great favor, 
to accompany them to court, as they felt very nervous 
about going there alone. I went, — unofficially, of 
course. The judge, finding the ladies did not speak 
German fluently enough to express themselves, and 
that they did not understand the language sufficiently 
to follow the proceedings, readily granted that I might 
translate for the ladies instead of employing a sworn 
interpreter. I had to regret this afterwards, for in the 
course of the hearing the lady, in her Irish brogue, got 
off such a storm of abuse against the corporal and 
against the court in general that was quite dismaying. 
I could only give the judge the substance of her re- 
marks, and was glad to be able to say that the lady 
had spoken so rapidly that it was impossible for me to 
follow her, and that some of her expressions were quite 
untranslatable. 

The corporal proved bis case quite clearly. The 
lady had actively opposed his authority; had loaded 
him with derogations, and openly accused him of ve- 
nality which the restricted limits of her purse alone 
prevented from being carried into action. 

The lady was mulcted for ten florins and the costs. 
Her rage when we left the court was unbounded. 



HOMESICKNESS. 163 



CHAPTEE XII. 

Homesickness — Good square breakfast — Consul not allowed to marry 
parties — Lunatic setting his room on fire — Once an Englishman always 
an Englishman — Our common law based on English law — Right of 
expatriation — Few Americans become subjects of other countries — For- 
eigners received as American citizens — Naturalized citizens returning 
to their native country — Our naturalization treaties — Bancroft's merits 
— Treaty with England — Bancroft censured by Department of State — 
The Bavarian protocol — Mild rule in practice — Bavaria holds firmly 
to treaty — Minister must decide a man's nationality — Talk of with- 
drawing from the treaty — Germans the most cosmopolitan of people — 
No chance of getting a better treaty — Chief flaw in our treaty — Bavaria 
made a mess of it — A returned Bavarian neither one thing nor the 
other — Case of such a man dying — Naturalized citizens to enjoy the 
same rights as native citizens — Circular from the Legation — Natural- 
ized German having no passport nor citizenship paper not to make 
application. 

Homesickness is one of the most distressing of com- 
plaints. How often have I had occasion to judge of 
its effects ! There are some travellers that have such 
an uncontrollable longing to be back home again that 
nothing can cheer them, no new sights divert them, no 
strange lands interest them. They droop like wilted 
plants; they can draw no succor from the foreign soil 
on which their foot rests. Homesickness has been 
sung by all our best and most feeling poets, and in the 
Bible it is beautifully and tenderly alluded to. 

I once received a letter in which the writer said, " I 
believe I have arrived at that era in my foreign life 
that the sight of a friend's face would be the most ac- 
ceptable thing in the world ; yes, I think I would be 
glad to see even a dog from homey 

A gentleman from Philadelphia was less canine in his 
partiality, but more material. He stopped in with a 
friend. They were both despondent and heartily tired 
of travelling. They were joking each other about 
being homesick and wanting to get back to their eity 
of brotherly love as soon as possible. One of thoiii 
said that it wasn't so much homesickness that ailed 



164 LUNATIC SETTING HIS ROOM ON FIRE. 

him as it was that he wanted to have a good, square 
breakfast once again. 

Why is it that so many people have the fixed im- 
pression that a consul is empowered to perform the 
marriage service ? I would not refer to this matter if 
the question had been put to me once or twice only, 
but it came from so many sides and was asked by so 
many diflPerent parties, and by intelligent parties, too, 
that it appears to me to be an almost universal belief 
that this act is one of the consul's most cherished pre- 
rogatives. Thank God, we are spared the responsi- 
bility of undertaking such a solemn office. In Chris- 
tian countries a consul has no authority to celebrate 
marriage either between foreigners or between his own 
countrymen, and "that American consuls have no such 
power is clear, because it is not given to them by any 
act of Congress, nor by the common law of marriage 
as understood in the several States. And marriage in 
the United States is not a federal question, but one of 
the resort of the individual States." Thus says the 
Consular Manual, ed. 1856. 

A waiter from the Hotel came in one day. I 

did not know that he was a waiter at first, and was 
somewhat surprised at noticing that he wore under his 
overcoat a black suit, with dress coat (somewhat shiny 
to be sure) ; he was much excited. He told me hur- 
riedly that there was an American stopping at his 
hotel who had become suddenly crazy in the night, 
had set fire to his room, and was now in a raving state, 
— what should they do? 

The curing of lunatics being outside of the consular 
jurisdiction, I told him I supposed the best thing would 
be to get a ph^'sician at once, and gave him the address 
of one English-speaking doctor, and further, that they 
should report the case to the police, so that the young 
man could be taken to the hospital. I promised to go 
round in the afternoon to see the patient. 

The proprietor of the hotel was at the police-office 
when I arrived, but he soon returned, and then showed 



LUNATIC SETTING HIS ROOM ON FIRE, 165 

me the room where the young man had lodged. It 
appears the portier had been wakened up in the night 
by being nearly suffocated by a dense smoke in the 
corridors ; he found his way up to the door from which 
the smoke issued, and went in (the door not being 
locked). A candle was dimly burning, and he discovered 
the American lying asleep on the sofa. He at once 
dragged him out into the corridor in an almost sense- 
less condition, wakened up the waiters and the boots, 
by whom the fire was soon extinguished. The window- 
curtains and shade were burnt down, the table, part 
of the wood-work of the window, and the carpet were 
burnt. It is supposed the young man, in a stupor, had 
laid himself on the sofa, and the wind from the open 
window had blown the curtain into the flame of the 
candle and thus caused the fire. The American, how- 
ever, on regaining wakefulness, had become raving 
crazy, so that it required the strength of all the 
servants to get him down-stairs into a room where he 
would not disturb the other guests. Fortunately, the 
fire had been so soon discovered and so quickly ex- 
tinguished that the guests, of whom there were very 
few at that season of the year, were not alarmed. 

In the mean while (when the proprietor was showing 
me the scene of the accident) the young man was in 
one of the private rooms, where he had at last become 
quiet, but he was in no condition to be questioned. 
He was a tall, slightly-built man, and was evidently 
well dressed, though from the general derangement of 
his clothes, his blackened hands and face and dishevelled 
hair, he presented a wild and forbidding appearance. 
He wore a small silk travelling-cap, which he kept con- 
tinually pressing down on his head. We could not get 
him to speak a word, but had no great difficulty in 
getting him into a carriage to take him to the sanitary 
police bureau to have him examined by the police physi- 
cian in order to get him a permit for the hospital. The 
ride roused him a little, and on one occasion he made an 
attempt to jump out of the carriage, but was pulled back 
again. On driving into the court-yard of the police 
building he seemed to have some indistinct misgiving. 



166 LUNATIC SETTING HIS ROOM ON FIRE. 

He looked distractedly around and then refused to go 
in, — he showed fight, — but the doctor coming out, he 
was soon quieted. Once in the room, he sank down into 
an arm-chair and immediately fell into a deep sleep. 
The physician pronounced his casedelirium tremens, and 
gave us an order for the hospital and instructed one of 
his assistants to accompany us. 

As we drove to the hospital the young fellow wakened 
up, and then became very talkative. He spoke in a 
rambling way about art and about what he had seen in 
Italy, and had a good deal to say about Correggio and 
Carlo Dolci. 

After seeing that he had every comfort in his room, we 
left him. 

The next day I went to visit him, but was told that he 
had gone out walking. The superintendent of the hos- 
pital said the young man was all right again, but that he 
preferred staying at the hospital for a few days until he 
was perfectly well. 

A week or so afterwards the young man called at the 
consulate to make his apologies, as he said. He was 
neatly dressed, but his clothes had an old-fashioned, 
country-store look about them, and hung loosely on his 
tall figure. He wore a high, standing collar, like a meat- 
chopper. He hadn't much recollection of what took 
place when he set his room on fire, nor of his ride to the 
hospital nor of anything else. He was of a very nervous 
temperament. He confessed that he had been drinking 
pretty hard on his way from Vienna to Munich, prin- 
cipally brandy ; that when he got to Munich, he drank a 
good deal of wine and beer at the hotel. He did not 
know how in the world he could have become so crazy. 
Yet in the course of further conversation it came out 
that he had once or twice had such spells at home. He 
was an intelligent, well-read man, and had a kindly ex- 
pression in his clear gray eyes, and I felt sorry for him. 

The landlord's bill for damages was not exorbitant, 
and it was at once paid. 



RIGHT OF EXPATRIATION, 167 

ONCE AN ENGLISHMAN ALWAYS AN ENG- 
LISHMAN. 

We all know with what tenacity the mother-country 
has always held to the above doctrine. Other na- 
tions, though not in just the same formulated expres- 
sion, have, in spirit, contended for the same principle. 

In modern history there is no other example of a 
people which has so completely torn itself from the 
parent stem in all that relates to the theory and prac- 
tice of government, as did the thirteen united colonies 
which so decisively and defiantly set themselves up as 
a new corporation in a new world. 

Although the common law of England remained in 
great part our common law, and many of our statutes 
were based upon the English statutes, yet in political 
matters we take entirely different views from those of 
England. Especially in the matter of expatriation, our 
laws are explicit, and opposed to those of England and 
most other states. The preamble to the act of July 
27, 1868, says, " The right of expatriation is a natural 
and inherent right of all peoples, indispensable to the 
enjoyment of the rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit 
of happiness;" and its conclusion says, "Any declara- 
tion, instruction, opinion, order, or decision of any 
officer of the United States which denies, restricts, im- 
pairs, or questions the right of expatriation, is declared 
inconsistent with the fundamental principles of the re- 
public.'^ 

We uphold the principle just the reverse of that con- 
tained in the heading of this article. It seems to us 
that one might, with the same philosophy, as well as- 
sert that — once a tadpole always a tadpole. But why 
shouldn't the tadpole have a right to become a frog if 
he wants to ? Why shouldn't he be allowed to re- 
nounce all allegiance to his wriggly Cauda, east it off, 
and become a free, unhampered, jumping citizen of a 
new state? 

Some things in this world are one-sided, — we, of 
course, are not so. Wo find it perfectly natural that 
the oppressed citizen of the eftete monarchies of the 



168 AMERICAN CITIZENSHIP. 

old world should come to our glorious land of liberty, 
should clutch our standard, and, enfolded in the safety 
with which it invests them, should snarl defiance at 
their former tyrannical rulers ; but I think we would 
find it very funny, to say the least, if any of our citi- 
zens were to go to a foreign country, and there 
throwing off the sheen of the ^^star-spangled," etc., 
were voluntarily to take upon themselves the yoke of 
the oppressor, and turn their backs on the fair land of 
freedom that gave them birth. But that is just where 
we have the advantage ; such things don't happen, or 
at least, such cases are so isolated that they are not 
worth taking into consideration. We have thus been 
liberal in the forming of our naturalization laws : they 
bring fish to our net. They were made early in the 
history of our existence,* at a time when we wanted 
population, and though they have been modified from 
time to time, they have not been changed in spirit 
nor in their essential bearings. It is a fundamental 
principle of these laws that every foreigner, after 
having fulfilled certain conditions (which arc simple 
and very eas}^ to fulfil), can become an American citi- 
zen, and, after having been naturalized, can have no 
political aflfinities with or obligations towards the land 
of his birth. We open our arms to every one who, 
with a fair reputation, comes to our shores, and we 
soon make him one of us : and in the main we have no 
reason to regret our hospitality. The great majority 
of our recruited citizens fully assimilate themselves 



* " In the colonies, even during the restrictions on naturalization in 
England, there were always greater or less facilities accorded. Before 
our Rerolution, all foreign Protestants and Jews, upon their residing 
seven years in the American colonies, were naturalized as if born in the 
United Kingdom, with the exception of holding offices; and that even 
more liberal enactments were not made was, in the declaration of Ameri- 
can Independence, assigned as one of the grounds of separation. It is 
stated there as a subject of complaint against the King of Great Britain, 
that he has endeavored to prevent the population of these States ; for 
that purpose obstructing the laws for naturalization of foreigners; re- 
fusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising 
the conditions of new appropriations of lands." — Wheaton, " Elements 
of International Law,'* Appendix No, 1. 



FOREIGNERS AS UNITED STATES CITIZENS. 169 

with us, both socially and politically, leaving but a 
very small number who, with less honest motives in 
taking upon themselves our nationality, use this ac- 
quired privilege to escape attacks which their former 
country has reason to make against them, — or as a 
shield to cover them in making attacks against that 
country itself. With whatever feelings of opprobrium 
we may look upon such beings, our laws still consider 
them as good as ourselves. 

But, while we make naturalization easy for every 
foreigner, the requirement of our law is in one respect 
more exacting than that of the principal countries of 
Europe, for we not only demand an oath of allegiance 
to our country, but also an abjuration of all other states 
and of all princes, and especially of the one of which 
the applicant was a citizen or subject. We do not 
trouble ourselves with the question as to whether the 
applicant has a right to tear himself from all authority 
of the power to which he owed allegiance or not, — 
that is his business, — but, by making him a citizen on 
our soil, we have him, and possession is nine-tenths of 
the law. He is at once invested with every right and 
privilege of the native-born citizen, with the one single 
exception (so jealously guarded by the second article 
of our Constitution) of not having the magnificent 
chance of some day becoming President. 

It is evident that so long as our naturalized citi- 
zens remain within our boundaries there can be no 
question as to their nationality, and no disputing their 
political status on the part of foreign nations. But let 
one of these naturalized Americans return to the land 
of his birth either for a short visit or for any other pur- 
pose, and then the trouble commences ; the question 
of nationality then becomes a very vexed one. Some 
countries, like England, although they admit foreigners 
to the rights of their own subjects, do not allow of the 
expatriation of their native subjects ; other countries 
do not permit a subject to renounce his allegiance 
without the special sanction of the crown thereto. 

Naturally, when the non-molestation of such returned 
emigrants was not secured by special treaty they 
H 16 



170 OUR NATURALIZATION TREATIES, 

generally had a hard time of it on once more putting 
their foot on their native shore. The correspondence 
of our diplomatic officers, found in the volumes of the 
" United Stafes Foreign Kelations," contains accounts 
of hundreds of cases where such persons were at once 
arrested, subjected to heavy fines and penalties, im- 
prisoned, made to serve in the army, and prohibited 
from again leaving the country. In reply to their 
protestations that they were American citizens, the re- 
spective foreign governments said, ^' It is all very well 
as long as you are over there, but when you come back 
you are still one of us." Our government was power- 
less to protect such persons. We couldn't be going to 
war every day. 

We have, within the last twenty years, made natural- 
ization treaties, based upon reciprocity of action, with 
nearly all the countries of Europe and with Mexico 
and Ecuador, and having for their primary object the 
better protection and more liberal treatment of natur- 
alized citizens on their returning to the land of their 
birth. These treaties are in the main satisfactory. 
They have a higher interest for us than for the several 
nation^ with which they were concluded, for the reason 
already hinted at, — that but few native Americans be- 
come citizens of foreign countries, whereas hundreds 
of thousands of foreigners come annually to our shores 
to remain, and to merge manners, customs, politics, 
language, in ours. 

The first of these treaties (concluded February 22, 
1868) was with the North German Union. Our then 
minister at Berlin, George Bancroft, in writing to the 
Department of State says, *' I hold it of good augury 
that the treaty between the United States and North 
Germany respecting the effect of naturalization has 
been signed on Washington's birthday." The second 
treaty was made with Bavaria, May 26, 1868, and then, 
in succession, with Baden, Wiirtemberg, and Hesse- 
Darmstadt; all concluded in the same year. During 
the same period similar treaties were made with Mexico 
and Belgium. 

It is only possible for those who are intimately ac- 



BANCROFTS MERITS, J 71 

qiiainted with the political creed, and with the modus 
operandi of the police and military courts of Germany, 
and especially of Prussia, to fully appreciate the re- 
sults which Mr. Bancroft brought about. It must be 
remembered that Germany, like England, had never 
admitted the right of expatriation of its subjects, and 
when the former country did acknowledge the natu- 
ralization of a German in a foreign country, it was 
merely by a concession made in each particular case, 
and not in accordance with an established principle. 
Our minister, in paving the way to these treaties, had 
to strike at the very root of old prejudices which had 
been flourishing ever since feudal times. Bancroft was 
greatly esteemed at Berlin, and at all the other German 
courts.* However high his attainments as a diplomat, 
his attainments as a scholar were placed higher still 
by the Germans. He spoke German well, and was 
conversant with the literature, history, and politics of 
Germany ; he was able to talk in their own language 
with all the men who could be of use to him ; he could 
chat with them intimately and unreservedly on social 
occasions, — and in diplomacy, it is just in such informal 
meetings that a point is often gaifted which would be 
greatly jeopardized or entirely lost in the official 
wrangling on matters of concession between the repre- 
sentatives of different powers. It is a great question 
whether any other man, no matter how great his qual- 
ities as a sharp politician might be, would have suc- 
ceeded in making such treaties with Germany if his 
linguistic capabilities were confined to his expressing 
himself in his native Yankee. Mr. Bancroft was not 
advancing a new theory of his own in regard to the 
rights of expatriation, but he knew how to win over to 
our view of it such iron men as Bismarck and others 
of the same metal. 

But the negotiations of our minister with the Prus- 
sian government had still wider bearings than with 



* TJcfore the foundation of the German Empire we had a Minipter 
Plenipotentiary accredited to the North German Union, but ho was our 
diplomatic representative to all the other German states as well. 



172 BANCROFT CENSURED. 

that government alone, for at the time the preliminary 
discussions were taking place feelers were put out to 
ascertain the view England and other nations would 
take in regard to the intended treaty, and they brought 
the news that England would at last be inclined to 
give up its long-cherished theory of " once an English- 
man always an Englishman" as far as we were con- 
cerned in the matter. In his letter of July 23, 1868, to 
Mr. Seward, Bancroft says, " Count Bismarck informs 
me that the British government has inquired of him as 
to the answer the Prussian government would make to 
the American government on the subject of naturaliza- 
tion. In reply he informed them of the intention of 
this government to come to an understanding with 
that of America, according to its request. The re- 
marks of Count Bismarck implied that the British gov- 
ernment is inclined to follow the example of the Prus- 
sian, and that the settlement of the question here will 
be virtually a settlement for Great Britain.'* Future 
events proved the correctness of this information, for 
two years afterwards (May 13, 1870) we concluded a 
similar naturalization treaty with England. The trea- 
ties with the several German states coincide nearly, 
though not entirely, with each other in their terms. 
Mr. Bancroft, despite his good efforts, received some 
very sharp words from the Department for not making 
them all exactly alike; but the Department had never 
been in Germany. It did not seem to know that in 
the then ununited states of Germany, each with its 
"particularistic" interests and petty jealousies, the 
very fact of one state having gone into such a treaty 
was sufficient reason for another state not doing the 
same. Therefore the more credit is due to the result 
obtained. 

The Bavarian government, for instance, strenuously 
upheld the view that the release of the emigrant from 
future claims to his performance of military service 
should date only from the moment of his naturaliza- 
tion, and not from the moment of his emigration. 
Prussia had declared that the emigrant was released 
from all future obligations to his native country from 



THE BAVARIAN PROTOCOL. 173 

the moment of his leaving it with the intent to become 
naturalized in the United States. But Bavaria suc- 
cumbed at last on this point, and then went a step 
further in our favor, by adding an official protocol to 
the treaty explaining each article, and thus making it 
the most complete and liberal treaty of them all. 

In the third article of that protocol, which was 
signed on the same day as the treaty itself, it says, '^ The 
regulation contained in the second clause of the tenth 
article of the Bavarian military law of January 30, 
1868, according to which Bavarians emigrating from 
Bavaria before the fulfilment of their military duty 
cannot be admitted to a permanent residence in the 
land till they shall have become thirty-two years old, 
is not aifected by the treaty. But yet it is established 
and agreed that by the expression ^ permanent resi- 
dence* used in the said article the above described emi- 
grants are not forbidden to undertake a journey to 
Bavaria for a less period of time and for definite pur- 
poses, and the royal Bavarian government, moreover, 
cheerfully declares itself ready in all cases in which 
emigration has plainly taken place in good faith, to 
allow a mild rule in pi-actice to be adopted." 

It may not be evident to every one what is meant 
by " allowing a mild rule in practice to be adopted." 

Before the making of the treaty, if a naturalized 
German returned to his native country, being still 
liable to perform military duty, he was at once seized 
upon, fined or imprisoned for the offence of unallowed 
emigration, and then impressed into the army. No 
excuse that he could give was valid, no representations 
on his part were accepted. Now, he can at least re- 
main unmolested for two years, and even before his 
having fully acquired his new nationality on our 
shores he can visit Bavaria for certain purposes with- 
out fear, for the second article of the protocol explains: 
"the words * resided uninterruptedly' are obviously to 
be understood, not of a continual bodily presence, but 
in a legal sense, and therefore a transient absence, a 
journey, or the like, by no means interrupts the period 
of five years contemplated by the first article." 

15* 



174 DECIDING NATIONALITY. 

My own experience has convinced me that Bavaria 
has faithfully held to the promise given in the protocol. 
As a general thing the royal government is always 
ready to regard every naturalized Bavarian that re- 
turns as an American citizen, and it does not take 
active steps to ferret out those who are liable to per- 
form military duty. When such persons are charged 
by the government, the knowledge of their delinquency 
is generally traceable to private jealousy on the part 
of some friend of the returned emigrant who plays the 
informer. When such a case is brought to the notice 
of the government, of course it has to follow the dic- 
tates of the military law, but even then ample time is 
given the offender to leave the country if he so chooses, 
and every opportunity is given him that he may apply 
for mediation from his diplomatic representative. 
Even in cases where naturalized Bavarians had been 
living in Bavaria for fifteen — twenty years, and were 
established in business there, the royal government 
tacitly considered them American citizens ; whilst I 
had my just doubts whether the parties really deserved 
that distinction. 

I, at least, made it a rule that whenever a natural- 
ized Bavarian not in possession of a passport not over 
two years old, or whom I knew to have been living 
over two years in Bavaria, came for any service in 
which it was necessary for him to legitimate himself as 
an American citizen, to refer him first to the Ameri- 
can minister to decide his nationality for him. In 
this practice I was supported by the approval of the 
Department of State. 

The treaties with Germany were made for the period 
of ten years from their date, with the privilege, at the 
expiration of that time, of either party giving one 
yearns notice of their discontinuance. During the last 
few years there has been talk on our side of with- 
drawing, and of making new and better treaties, but I 
am convinced that such a step would be disastrous for 
us. I do not think, in a new treaty, Germany would be 
disposed to adhere to its present terms. We would be 
the losers by it. The emigration from Germany to the 



GERMANrS COSMOPOLITAN PEOPLE. 175 

United States is ever on the increase, and even now 
the Empire is anxiously considering the question of 
establishing colonies in order to have outlets for those 
subjects who wish to leave their native land, and yet 
to have them within bounds and under the control of 
the military laws. The German emigrant (and especi- 
ally he who goes to the United States) is lost forever 
to his fatherland ; he becomes naturalized as soon as it 
is possible to do so, and he assimilates himself in his 
social and political views with those among whom he 
has taken up his home. I should say that the Ger- 
mans are the most cosmopolitan of peoples. The Eng- 
lishman, no matter in what part of the world he lives, 
carries his customs, his strongly-rooted views, his per- 
sonal peculiarities, — even the usages of his table and 
his toilet, — with him. The French do the same (in 
a lesser degree, perhaps), also, but the German who 
comes to us at once accustoms himself to live as we 
do. In his political principles the German becomes as 
thoroughly American as ourselves; nay, even more so, 
— in this respect he outherods Herod, for, hear him, 
on his return to his former home, holding forth to his 
relatives and quondam companions, whom he looks 
down upon with affectionate commiseration, upon the 
greatness, the magnificence, the power, and the purity 
of the country which he now helps to support. Ho 
will tell them all that they are poor slaves, whilst he, 
in his new position, is the equal of the kings and 
princes of backward Europe. His children, born on 
our soil, are Americans, wholly and incontrovertibl3\ 

Being industrious and steady people, the Germans 
who come to us generally succeed in business, or 
at all events they do better with us than they did at 
home, hence the great mass of them never return to 
their native country to live, but on their visits there 
generally induce friends and relatives to follow their 
example, and from these causes the steadily-rolling tide 
of emigration to our shores begins to make Germany 
tremble at the continuous loss of future soldiers. 

It is not likely that Germany, that conceded so much 
(according to its own ideas) in 18G8, would allow itself 



176 TREATIES. 

to be cajoled into making still easier terms for the emi- 
gratinor of its subjects now. On the contrary, the Ger- 
man diplomatists would probably say, " We made a 
quite liberal treaty with you nearly twenty years ago, 
— we granted you what we had granted no other na- 
tion, — we put aside certain deep-rooted principles of 
our policy to accommodate you, but, nevertheless, we 
have stood to our agreement, and have made no show 
of withdrawing from it. If you are not satisfied with 
the treaty, it is your lookout if a new one is not as ad- 
vantageous to you as the present one.'* 

As good as our several treaties with the German 
states are, they are still full of holes ; but that is not 
a characteristic of these treaties alone; others have 
them too. The chief flaw in them is, that the estab- 
lishment of the nationality of a naturalized German re- 
turned to Germany is of a negative character only, for 
in all the treaties it says, "If a German (Bavarian, 
etc.) renews his residence in ^orth Germany (Bavaria, 
etc.), he shall be held to have renounced his naturaliza- 
tion in the United States'' (reciprocally, if an American 
naturalized in North Germany, Bavaria, etc.); "the in- 
tent not to return may be held to exist when the per- 
son naturalized in the one country resides more than 
two years in the other countr}'.'* The naturalized 
citizen residing on his native soil is, therefore, left to 
the tender mercies of the mother-countiy to decide for 
him whether he has renounced his acquired nationality 
or not. Our Legation at Berlin is careful in each case 
where it furnishes a passport, or renews one to a natu- 
ralized German who has stayed over the stipulated 
time in his fatherland, to say, "As you have remained 
in Germany beyond the two years provided for in Ar- 
ticle lY. of the treaty, the Legation cannot guarantee 
that the German authorities will not interfere with 
you." 

Now in the case of North Germany and some of the 
other German states, the terms of the fourth article 
(alluded to above) are pretty clear; that is, if a natu- 
ralized North German residing in North Germany for 
more than two years is looked upon as having re- 



TREATIES. Yil 

nounced his naturalization in the United States, it 
logically follows that he falls back to his former status 
of nationality, and is again, per se, a North German 
subject. 

But Bavaria, which sought to be so explicit in the offi- 
cial protocol by explaining article for article, has on this 
point made a mess of it. In the third article of the 
protocol, relating to the fourth article of the treaty, 
it says, "It is hereby agreed that when a Bavarian 
naturalized in America, and, reciprocally, an American 
naturalized in Bavaria, takes up his abode once more 
in his original country without the intention to return 
to the country of his adoption, he does by no means 
thereby recover his former citizenship ; on the contrary, 
in so far as it relates to Bavaria, it depends on His 
Majesty the King whether he will or will not in that 
event grant the Bavarian citizenship anew. The arti- 
cle fourth shall accordingly have only this meaning, 
that the adopted country of the emigrant cannot pre- 
vent him from acquiring once more his former citizen- 
ship ; but not that the state to which the emigrant 
originally belonged is bound to restore him at once to 
his original relation. On the contrary-, the citizen nat- 
uralized abroad must first apply to be received back 
into his original country in the manner prescribed by 
its laws and regulations, and must acquire citizenship 
anew, exactly like any other alien. But yet it is left to 
his own free choice whether he will adopt that course 
or will preserve the citizenship of the country of his 
adoption." 

There is something in this concession which would be 
quite touching if it were not so funny, and it would be 
extremely funny if it were not for the serious pre- 
dicament in which the subject of its bounty sometimes 
finds himself. If a naturalized Bavarian returns to his 
native country and remains there longer than two 
years, the Bavarian government has the right to hold 
that he has renounced his naturalization in the United 
States ; therefore he is no longer our citizen, and our 
government, by the terms of the treaty, cannot protect 
him as such. But then, he is not yet a Bavarian sub- 



178 NATURALIZED CITIZENS. 

ject, for he must first make application for that distinc- 
tion, and is dependent on the pleasure of the kingr for 
its granting. In the mean time, what is he? He is 
thoroughly skied, for he can call no part of the earth 
his own. . Where is he to apply for a recognition of his 
rights? He is a football between the two powers. He 
is nowhere. He does not know himself where he be- 
longs, and if he seeks for information he is sent " from 
Pontius to Pilate," as the Germans say. If he comes 
to the consul for advice, the best thing the consul can 
do is to turn him over to the minister ; if the minister 
can't handle the case he refers it to the State Depart- 
ment, and if the State Department is undecided, it asks 
the opinion of the Attorney-General. 

Now, in the case of a live man, he at least can press 
the question to a settlement in some way or other, or 
he can return to America and remain there and con- 
tinue his American citizenship undisputed ; but suppose 
a man who is just in the transition state — in the nega- 
tive state of being neither a citizen of the United States 
nor a subject of Bavaria — suddenly dies ; then the 
question of his nationality becomes a very vexed one 
indeed. In all such cases, Bavaria, as before remarked, 
either as a matter of courtesy, or in order to avoid 
complications, tacitly allowed such persons to be con- 
sidered as American citizens, and what little property 
they left was administered on according to our laws. 
But if it were to the interest of Bavaria 7iot to consider 
such persons as American citizens, there would be 
plenty of international squabbling over the remains. 

It is not necessary to give examples. The intelligent 
reader will be able to clearly understand what trouble- 
some questions may arise in the present uncertainty 
of the political status of a returned naturalized Ba- 
varian. Mr. J. C. Bancroft Davis, formerly United 
States Minister at Berlin, in some of his letters alludes 
to this matter as " the difficult subject of citizenship :" 
he hit the nail on the head with a single stroke. 

I now come to another matter connected with this 
subject. 

We pretend to give our naturalized citizens every 



NATURALIZED CITIZENS. I79 

right and the same protection that our native citizens 
enjoy. We do this at home, but we are not able to do 
it fully, and to all intents and purposes, abroad, for the 
reason that the status of a naturalized American citizen 
on returning to his native land is modified by treaty 
stipulations. But in as far as we are unhampered by 
the intervention of foreign governments, in our treat- 
ment of those who have not yet been abroad for two 
years, let us see if such enjoy the same advantages as 
the native citizen under the same circumstances. 

I call attention here to an instruction which was 
issued by the United States Legation at Berlin, dated 
June 14, 1875, and which seems to me to bear very 
unjustly on the naturalized citizen. This circular, ad- 
dressed to the consular officers in Germany, relates to 
applications to the Legation for passports on the part 
of United States citizens. According to its terms a 
native citizen coming to a consul to make application 
for a passport is simply required to make oath as to his 
name, place of birth, age, etc., and his application is to 
be forwarded to the Legation even if he have no old 
passport or other paper to identify him as an American 
citizen. But, in the case of a naturalized citizen, it 
says, " Should the applicant have neither a certificate 
of naturalization nor a passport, his application for a 
passport must be refused. The instructions from the 
Department of State are positive on this point, and 
admit of no exception.'' 

Suppose, now, one of our adopted citizens is un- 
fortunate enough to lose his passport or his certificate 
of naturalization, or suppose he left America without 
his bringing either along with him, and it becomes 
necessary for him to have a passport at once, what is 
he to do ? He may go to a consul to state his case, and 
the consul may be perfectly satisfied as to the man's 
nationality, — may feel tfiat the man is fully entitled to 
a passport, may know how pressing is the need of one, 
and may know what disastrous consequences may at- 
tend the withholding of one, — and yet the consul has to 
turn the man out of doors as if he were a " heathen 
Chinee," or something worse. 



180 NATURALIZED CITIZENS. 

"But," expostulates the poor supplicant, "at least 
write to the minister at Berlin in my case ; I can give 
you every proof you need on my oath and on the 
declaration of friends who know me personally, that I 
am a loyal citizen, and I certainly have the right, ac- 
cording to our Constitution, to be protected the same 
as a native-born American." The consul rubs his 
hands and smilingly says, " Ah, it's all very well, my 
friend, I don't doubt your veracity in the least, but you 
see, it is not only the passport that is refused you, but 
you are not allowed to make the application for one. 
I am not permitted to give you any assistance in this 
matter. Here are our instructions, you see, in black 
and white. You had better pack up your bag and just 
run over to the United States and bring me your 
citizenship paper, and then I'll make it all right for 
you." 

Here, then, is a clear case in which the naturalized 
citizen has not the same rights as the native, and there 
is no apparent reason for making such a cruel distinc- 
tion. This is a distinction that is not necessitated 
through any pressure on the part of a foreign govern- 
ment, but it is an arrangement that concerns only our 
own. Again, is not the oath of one as good as the oath 
of another, when dealing with persons whom we have 
considered honest enough to confer the great favor of 
citizenship upon ? 

I had some doubts whether this regulation issued by 
Mr. J. C. Bancroft Davis (possibly for some particular 
or temporary purpose) was still to be considered in 
force after he had left Berlin. I thought, perhaps, it 
might have been overlooked by his successors in office, 
and had not been countermanded by them because they 
had not noticed its harshness. But in 1882 I had oc- 
casion to allude to the matter in a despatch to the De- 
partment of State, and was informed, in reply, that the 
said regulation was still in force. 

The curious feature in the above circular is, that in 
its introductory paragraph it says, " The statutes of 
the United States make it the duty of all officers to 
afford to naturalized citizens the same protection of 



NATURALIZED CITIZENS. 181 

persons and property which is accorded to native-born 
citizens." The same circular, with admirable logic, 
goes on : " Should the application be for protection 
against an attempt to compel the applicant to do mili- 
tary service in Germany, or against an act of local offi- 
cers, the consular officer, in addition to personal efforts 
in support of the application, should (unless he be satis- 
fied that his personal intervention will accomplish all 
that may be desired) also report the case to the Lega- 
tion, accompanied by proper proof of the citizenship of 
the applicant, and by a statement of any other facts 
necessary to be known." 

Now, if the consul can give proper proof of the citi- 
zenship of the applicant for the purposes of the latter 
case, why is that same proof not sufficient to entitle 
him to make an application for a passport? One might 
here quite pertinently say, "What is sauce for the 
goose is sauce," etc. ; but this is low, — it is not diplo- 
matic. 

If the naturalized citizen gets into such a scrape as 
just contemplated, the German authorities, in the first 
place, want his United States citizenship established, or 
at least the applicant's claim thereto supported by the 
endorsement of some United States official who is recog- 
nized as such by the foreign government ; but that can 
only be done satisfactorily in the form of a passport. 
The consul is prohibited by the " Consular Eegulations" 
from giving any paper certifying to a person's citizen- 
ship. The only proof thereof is the passport itself. 



16 



182 CAUGHT BY A LETTER-BOX. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Caught by a letter-box — Stehhalbe — Suspicion of passing counterfeit 
money — American swindlers — The circus-rider — Telegram, " look out 
for swindler" — Telegram : lady swindler — Doctor of medicine-swindler 
— Anthony Sharp — Warlike tailor — Books with begging letters — In- 
surance companies — Schools and academies: references — American 
dentists — The flute — Boehm and the Boehm flute — Requests for music 
— Munich a musical city — International Peace Jubilee — Showing a 
friend around the city — Which is the gem of the collection ? — What 
kind of grease do they use for car-axles in this country? — General 
Grant in Munich — Circular of Department of State — " Put money in 
thy purse" — Preparations made at Munich — Description of personal 
appearance — Visit to court brewery — Letters of introduction — State 
Department letters of introduction — Circular in regard to letters of 
introduction — Very mean people in the world — Sending Confederate 
notes to relatives, etc. — " I }iaven*t brass enough for that." 

I OFTEN amuse myself by planning odd situations that 
a man might get into without any fault of his own, and 
how he might often be exposed to ridicule, and even to 
suspicion of the gravest character, by the most trifling 
mishap. 

Once, in putting a letter into one of the post-office 
boxes at the street-corners, I found that it was already 
pretty well stuffed, and that my letter would not go in 
completely, but left an edge sticking out at the opening 
of the box so that any one might easily have pulled it 
out again. I tried to poke the letter in with my fingers, 
and wedged them in through the oblong slit until they 
were actually in over my ring. In attempting to 
draw my hand back, the ring caught against the inside 
opening, the brass teeth, which hang down, letting any- 
thing in easy enough, but preventing anything going 
out (on the principle of a mouse-trap), closed in against 
the ring, and the harder I pulled the tighter I was held, 
as if a mechanical bull-dog had me in his grip. 

It was not long: by pushing my hand a little farther 
in and by raising the teeth with my other hand, I man- 
aged to get free ; but it went flashingly through my 
mind what a narrow escape I had made, and I pictured 



STEHHALBE. 183 

to myself the pretty predicament a fellow would be in 
if really thus captured by a letter-box: first, the frantic 
struggling to get loose, and the horrid sensation of de- 
spair on finding one's efforts fruitless ; then the crowd 
gradually collecting; then, perhaps, the offered assist- 
ance of some one more humane than the rest, whose 
attempts to extricate our finger are not crowned with 
any better success than our own; then the thousand 
suggestions by the crowd as to how the thing should 
be done: there seem to be as many ways for doing 
it as there are cures for the toothache. But a 
crowd is seldom practical ; it is generally more noted 
for its patience. It is wonderful how long people can 
hold out, and how much time they can devote to it, 
when anything is going on where somebody else has 
met with a misfortune on the street. I suppose it 
must be on account of the love bestowed on them by 
the person in the predicament, for the old proverb as- 
sures us that " misery loves companions." 

A crowd must be entertained, however, and if the 
originator of it doesn't do something to keep up the 
fun, the constituents must do something for them- 
selves ; hence it is that witty and jocose remarks gen- 
erally fly about from a few of the more humorous 
spirits in order to pass the time pleasantly. I can 
imagine, in the supposed case of my letter-box captive, 
the shoemaker's apprentice (who is always the first 
man in a German crowd), with his heelless slippers and 
his arm hung full of boots, and with his impertinent 
nose, asking the gentleman how long he intends to 
stay there, and whether he shall bring him a stehhalbe* 
Another one in the crowd wishes to know " if the <]:en- 



*t.e., a standing half-glass. When good Munichers have been sitting 
for about seven or eight hours at a stretch in the beer-house, and Avhen, 
at last, the moral conviction begins to dawn upon them that they are 
able to hold out until next morning, and they at last rise, and put on 
their hats and coats and pay their reckoning, it is often proposed by 
some one of the party to drink a atehhalbe, — to drink half a quart yet, — 
standi uij, before they go. One Htehhalbe generally loads to another, for, 
in getting up to a standing position, they always lind that it makes room 
for still a little more beer. They verify the refrain of the old song, 
*' The ancient Germans drank still one, before they left.** 



184 AN AWKWARD SITUATION. 

tleman perhaps has an attachment on that property," 
while a third surmises that the gentleman happened to 
see his tailor coming round the corner and had tried to 
hide in the letter-box, and thus got caught. But these 
observations, so sportively put, are only indulged in 
and enjoyed by the privileged few who are on the in- 
side. Those on the outskirts of the crowd who are not 
able to look over the shoulders of those in front, 
revenge themselves for not being able to see the vic- 
tim by taking a more sinister view of the case, and it 
is soon spread around that the person thus happily 
caught in flagrante is a noted bank robber and forger 
came all the way from London — or Paris — to do a 
stroke of business by picking letter-boxes, but that 
Munich has been too much for him. 

Then, at last, the police arrive and wedge their way 
through the crowd, and now the real interest of the 
scene commences. It's no good for the poor gentle- 
man to explain, for he's not believed, and the gens 
d'armes would at once march him off to the station, but 
in this case they can't conveniently do so. It appears 
to them that they must either take the house along 
with him, or they must cut off his finger. Here is a 
horrible situation, both for the sufferer and for the 
officers of the law. Then some one in the crowd sug- 
gests that it is not necessary to take the house along, 
— " send for a blacksmith to unrivet the letter-box 
from the wall." A blacksmith is sent for (the shoe- 
maker's apprentice cheerfully volunteers to go for him), 
and after half an hour's waiting he arrives, but, of 
course, he hasn't brought the right tools with him, and 
he has to go back to his shop to fetch them, and on the 
way he stops to fortify himself with a quart of beer. 
He can't wrench the thing off with a crowbar, — he 
must have a file and a chisel. Here some genius shouts 
out, " Pry open the slit." The crowbar comes into play, 
and at last the unhappy man is released, — released 
from the letter-box, but not from the police. He has 
to. march along with an aching finger and an aching 
heart, and followed by a dense stream of admirers, to 
the police-office, there to be examined. The box has 



COUNTERFEIT MONEY. 185 

to be examined too, to see if nothing is missing, and 
lucky is the individual if he gets off from the clutches 
of the police with nothing worse than an admonition, 
given in a fatherly way, to mind in future not to put 
his fingers in things that don't concern him. 

Such is a case that might possibly happen. Here is 
a case that really did happen — at Nuremberg. 

A gentleman was about leaving the city at night, 
and being somewhat late was in a hurry. He paid for 
his ticket in a flurried manner, in silver, and darted 
off towards the waiting-room to pass through it to the 
train, but was much startled at feehng himself tapped 
on the shoulder, in a strange place, and turning, saw, 
to his horror, that it was a police-officer who had hold 
of him. The officer told him he arrested him on sus- 
picion of passing counterfeit money, and dragged him 
off, despite the gentleman's protestations that he was 
an honest man and a foreigner. At the police-office, 
the silver the gentleman had paid at the railway station 
was produced, and it certainly had a very peculiar 
whitish lustre, and was blunt and had a very queer 
feel to the fingers. He was asked to show up his other 
money which he had about him. All his other silver 
looked and felt the same way. On closer investigation, 
however, it was found the silver was genuine, but its 
singular outward appearance could not be accounted 
for. His purse was also examined, and he was asked 
where he had bought it. He had only purchased it a 
couple of hours before from a street vender, for the 
moderate sum of fifty phennigs. And then the secret 
all at once came out. These purses, which had been 
hawked about the streets and taverns at the above 
cheap rate, were found to be strongly impregnated with 
quicksilver, — they had been made out of the cast-off 
sheep-skin bags in which quicksilver is exported from 
Spain. The gentleman was at once liberated, with 
many apologies. But he was obliged to remain that 
night in the " quaint old town of toil and traffic," to 
ruminate over his own little traffic there which led to 
89ch unpleasant consequences. 

16* 



186 AMERICAN SWINDLERS. 

Although the unfortunate gentleman above alluded 
to was perfectly innocent, and was only the victim of 
an untoward accident, yet his case reminds me that 
there are, nevertheless, real swindlers enough hailing 
from our fair land, who transplant their cunning tricks 
to foreign soils and come under the notice of the police, 
and very often under the notice of the consul too. 

There was a man who represented himself as a cir- 
cus-rider. He had been engaged at an American trav- 
elling circus ; he had been thrown from his horse and 
had broken his collar-bone, and was then out of employ- 
ment. He was very crooked about the shoulders, and 
carried his arm in a sling. He was perfectly destitute 
in a strange land, had a suffering wife and I don't 
know how many children to support, and, painful as it 
Avas to him to do, he had to appeal to the charity of 
his countrj^men. It was just the day before Christmas 
when he called, — at a time when the giving hand is 
more than ever open, — and he received quite consider- 
able sums of money, besides eatables and clothing. 
The gentleman's breath smelt somewhat of brandy, 
which he had taken on account of the intense cold. 
He was armed with a letter from some susceptible con- 
sul, who highly recommended him. It is almost need- 
less to say that it afterwards turned out that the man 
(very strong, active, and muscular, and with a collar- 
bone as little out of order as his appetite — or his thirst) 
was a professional and accomplished beggar. 

A telegram advises me to " look out for Dr. Thomas 
Blindell, of Chicago, Illinois, swindler, who obtained 
passport here and money under false pretences. Eetain 
passport if possible. , Secretary of American Lega- 
tion." 

Another one, quite mysterious, followed not long 
after: "American Consul, Munich : Caroline Gardiner, 
twenty-seven to thirty years of age, lady's maid, tall, 
slim, dark, agreeable ph^'siognomj^ small eyes, nearlj^ 
black, fine black hair, green dress, black trimming, hat 
with flowers, modest, lady-like bearing, wears water- 
proof C ." 



AMERICAN SWINDLERS. 187 

I afterwards ascertained that this person, so modest 
and lady-like and with the dark, agreeable physiognomy, 
had robbed her mistress. She was caught. 

A medical gentleman, living quite in style with hi^ 
wife for some time in Munich, suddenly left, forgetting 
in his hurry to pay his bill for board and lodging. All 
he left behind him were a couple of trunks, which, 
when opened, displayed only a few pieces of old wear- 
ing apparel and some odd books. He wandered up to 
one of the northern countries of Europe, where he 
worked upon the tender feelings of one of our consuls 
there, who loaned him quite a sum of money, which the 
doctor made use of for travelling purposes, leaving his 
wife behind him in a state of great destitution. The 
consul hoped to get something back in the way of 
effects, but there was nothing left out of which money 
could be made ; besides, the landlord of the doctor's 
former lodgings had a prior attachment. But the affair 
led to quite an extended correspondence between my 
colleague and myself, out of which, however, nothing 
came, for I know my colleague never recovered a cent 
from the doctor. 

A very poor fellow with his wife and three small 
children came for assistance. He told me he was from 
Texas. He said he had a brother in Eatisbon who 
was going to send him money to go to him, where he 
could get work at good wages, as he was a machinist, 
but that at present he had nothing whatever; he was 
waiting for the money. The whole party had such 
honest faces that there was no disbelieving the story. 
My wife allowed them to come every da}'' at noon to 
get their dinner, and gave sundry bits to take along 
with them for the children. At last, the money not 
coming, they begged us for enough to take them to 
Eatisbon, which the man promised to repay as soon as 
he got to work and received his first wages. Wo did 
not flatter ourselves much with the prospect of getting 
back the money or of ever hearing of them again, but 
it had done one good to see how the children pitched 
into the victuals and emptied the dishes. We wore 
mistaken in our surmises, for a few days afterwards 



188 WARLIKE TAILOR, 

came the astounding telegram from the man — from 
Nuremberg — saying, "My father just written he sent me 
fifty-two thousand dollars. Please give immediate an- 
swer. Send it on when it comes. Answer paid. Anton 
Sharp." Two days after a telegram came from an inn- 
keeper at the same place, " Do -you know the where- 
abouts of John Sharp, from Bronzeville, in Mexico? 
Answer immediately. Paid." Aha ! I thought, John 
and Anthony are the same person, who conveniently 
changes his name and place of residence to suit circum- 
stances ; a light began to dawn upon me as to the charac- 
ter of my honest friend. In a couple of months a long 
letter came from the judge of the district court of Nurem- 
berg, asking for information in regard to Anthony Sharp. 
The judge said Sharp had been borrowing money largely 
in that city, representing that he had been a man of 
great property in Strasburg, but had lost one hundred 
and seventy-five thousand francs there during the war; 
his father, however, living in Jamaica (this time), had 
sent him thirty thousand dollars, which were on their 
way to him ; that I was instructed as to this remittance 
by his father, which was to be sent to the consulate, 
and that he had telegraphed to me to receipt for it. I 
believe Anthony received something for his financial 
freaks in Nuremberg, in the way of free lodging for a 
certain time. 

At the time our Alabama claims were being dis- 
cussed, a valiant knight of the needle, a stitchologist, as 
the}^ are sometimes called, from a small town in the 
Palatinate, wrote me a fervent letter, intimating that 
in case of the breaking out of a war between the United 
States and England he was anxious to enter the Ameri- 
can army. He wanted to know what would be re- 
quired of him in such a case, — what qualifications it 
was necessary for him to possess. He was ready to 
desert his goose for our eagle. He was a far-seeing 
man and sniffed the smell of coming battles. He evi- 
dently believed, by putting in an early application, that 
" a stitch in time saves nine." 



AMERICAN DENTISTS. 189 

A consul has a great many books (mostly small 
volumes of poems) thrust upon him, with begging let- 
ters from poor authors to buy or otherwise help them, 
or from parties who sell the book in aid of charitable 
purposes ; but it is hardly compatible with the salary 
of a consul to indulge too much in light literature. 

Insurance companies, especially life insurance com- 
panies, are very anxious to get the consul's name as a 
" reference" to put on their circulars ; likewise, schools 
and academies of all kinds. 

American dentists have as great a reputation for skill 
abroad as they have at home. There are one or more 
established in almost all the larger cities of Europe, and 
who generally succeed, and in some cases amass im- 
mense fortunes. This draws on many more from our 
shores, who are industriously looking around for an 
opening. Many were the letters received asking as to 
the prospects for an American dentist to establish him- 
self at Munich ; as to the laws of the country respect- 
ing their practising there; as to the requirements de- 
manded, etc. Many German dentists are proud to style 
themselves " American dentist" even if they have only 
been over to the United States on a short visit and 
pulled a couple of teeth there, or those who only sub- 
scribe to American dental journals and use American 
instruments and appliances. 

The flute is a favorite instrument with a good many 
people, and on quiet summer nights its melancholy 
tones can be heard floating out from many a third-story 
back-room window. It is a patient instrument too, 
and can often wait a long while for one note to follow 
another, as if they were in no hurry whatever to catch 
the train of melody ; and that is generally the stylo of 
the amateur performer. But the flute was always a 
defective instrument ; some of the tones were leaky 
when in the hands of the best players ; the holes and 
the keys were not adapted to the natural position of 
the fingers. 



190 MUNICH A MUSICAL CITY, 

In the beginning of this century, a noted flute-player 
in the Munich orchestra, Theobald Boehm, gave his at- 
tention to the perfecting of his professional instrument, 
the flute. His alterations went so far as to make the 
flute quite another instrument, for the boring and the 
placing of the holes were made on a new principle, and 
the celebrated Boehm flute was the result. The old 
gentleman died only a few years ago at an advanced 
age. He was a genial man, and a great admirer of 
America and of Americans, and I had many pleasant 
and entertaining talks with him. One of our officers in 
the State Department is a flute-player, and he wrote 
me several times to give him information in regard to 
the mechanism of the Boehm flute, and to have certain 
things explained to him by the maker. Others wrote 
to me on the same subject, so that by degrees I got to 
know all about it. 

Then came requests to send over music for the flute 
arranged in a certain way. 

Munich is a musical city, and a city of good music 
I need scarcely refer to the court orchestra, both in tht, 
Eoyal Opera-House and in the Odeon, the performances 
of which rank second to none in Europe. Then there 
is the magnificent church music, which can be heard 
almost daily. In St. Michael's Church the old masses 
of Palestrina, Pergolese, Ett, and Orlando di Lasso are 
wonderful in the fulness, richness, pathos, with which 
they are rendered. The military mass on Sundays, in 
which the organ is supported by full orchestra, is a 
grand treat indeed. In the court chapel the choir is 
composed of the principal singers of the opera. The 
military bands are the finest in Germany; they play 
daily at the Hall of the Marshals and at the City Hall 
on the Marien Platz ; they perform, besides, almost 
nightly at the larger beer-gardens and concert-rooms. 
But there are many other bands, in addition, which can 
be heard for a trifling sum, — about ten cents of our 
money. Gungl was for many years in Munich. Even 
in the smallest beer-houses, the hock music in the morn- 
ing is always bright, sprightly, and stirring. The 



INTERNATIONAL PEACE JUBILEE, 191 

South Germans are musicians by nature — by disposi- 
tion, — they are full of fire in their performances. But 
the reputation of Munich as a musical city is too well 
known to require further mention here. 

In 1872, when the International Peace Jubilee was 
held at Boston, one of the agents, in a somewhat pom- 
pous letter, wanted the consul to write to the Minister 
for Foreign Affairs to send over a " crack" Bavarian 
military band. The expenses of transportation were 
to be paid by the association. The terms were quite 
liberal. He also wanted the consul to send a special 
invitation to the king to go over to attend the concerts. 
He did not say whether the king's expenses were to be 
paid too, but he held out, as a special inducement, that 
" President Grant has promised to come too." 

Showing a friend around the city, " showing him the 
lions," in fact, is one of the most thankless tasks that 
fall to the lot of a person who is supposed to " know 
the ropes.'* When you pilot your friend around you 
call his attention to what you consider sightworthy, 
and you begin to expatiate on the beauties of a certain 
building, or the peculiarities of a certain custom, and 
you are distressed to find that he doesn't enter into 
the warmth of your discourse, and you catch him look- 
ing away, abstractedly, in another direction, or gazing 
intently at something which you fail to see. You fol- 
low his eyes and try to discover what it is they are 
looking at. A feeling of disappointment creeps over 
you, knowing, as you do, that you have been imparting 
very useful information (information that is not to be 
found in the guide-books) that hasn't been listened to. 
A feeling of littleness creeps over you too, because you 
know that you have studied up the subjects that 3^ou 
are speaking about well, that you have had time to 
form your own opinion of them, that you have heard 
the opinions of so many others, and that you have had 
the advantage of the acquaintance of old residents who 
have told you many particulars relating to houses, and 
streets, and monuments, and places that a stranger or 



192 SHOWING A FRIEND AROUND THE CITY, 

a traveller could never have got hold of, — and, sud- 
denly, you find that you have been pouring these valu- 
able descriptions and narrations (for which a person 
ought to feel most grateful) into ears belonging to eyes 
that are intently fixed on something else. You begin 
to have a general feeling about you of, ^-Confound the 
fellow ! he is always looking at the wrong thing." 

If you are in a picture-gallery, its walls blazing with 
Titians and Tintorettos, with Murillos, Rubenses, and 
Vandykes, with Diirers and Holbeins, and you dis- 
course eloquently on composition and expression and 
color, your companion has a bland look about him, and 
his eyes wander aimlessly from canvas to canvas, or 
are fixed on the ceiling or on some distant door. You 
recall his attention to what is before you, and just as 
you think you have at last chained him with partici- 
pating interest in the subject, his mercantile mind will 
upset you by his suddenly asking you, '• Xow, which is 
considered the gem of this collection ?" In other words, 
he would like to know which picture has the highest 
money value. That puts a stop to all further art dis- 
course, and the only satisfaction you have is to tell him 
imperiously and with an unsympathetic frown for his 
insensitiveness, that the treasures of art are not weighed 
out like sugar or soap, nor sold by the yard like his 
own calicoes ; and that you hope these, in particular, 
will never come under the hammer in order to satisfy 
him as to which one brought the highest bid. 

You used to be such vei-y good friends with each 
other at home, and now you find that there doesn't seem 
to be as much sympathy between you as formerly. 
The things which you have been accustomed to think- 
ing very fine, and which you think ought equally to 
interest those who now see them for the first time, 
almost begin to appear a little tame to yourself, and 
you are sensible of some vague, undefinable loss. What- 
ever you may say in praise of a thing, your friend is 
sure to compare it with something else he has seen at 
some other place, which is finer. You now feel that it 
would be a relief to knock off from sight-seeing alto- 
gether, and to drop into some pleasant, shady little 



SHOWING A FRIEND AROUND THE CITY. 193 

beer-garden for lunch, there to talk of other matters. 
But in this you are balked : you haven't even the con- 
solation of your friend getting hungry at the same 
time as yourself You have settled down to the cus- 
toms of the place you are in, and take your meals at 
early hours. Tou have had nothing but a cup of cof- 
fee and a roll since rising, while your friend has had 
his late breakfast of beefsteaks and potatoes and ome- 
lette, and does not want to spoil his appetite for his 
five o'clock dinner. 

I remember once starting out with a gentleman to 
show him the sights of the city. I had promised my- 
self much pleasure in his companionship, for he had 
professed himself very much interested in architecture, 
and said he wanted to have the benefit of my comments 
on the various buildings of Munich. I felt flattered, 
and therefore felt pleased, and I thought I had at last 
got hold of some one whose rapt attention to my 
words would be a reward for the brilliant and original 
remarks I was going to treat him to. 

We were standing in front of the arch of Victory at 
the end of the Ludwig Strasse, its pure white marble 
glistening in the bright sunshine like snow, and re- 
lieved by one of those intensely blue skies, such as one 
sees nowhere more beautiful than, occasionally, in 
Munich. I was explaining the bas-reliefs to him, 
praising the delicacy of the proportions of the archi- 
tecture, pointing out to him the fine profiles of the 
mouldings, calling his attention to the fresh contrast in 
color between the gleaming marble and the deep azure 
of the air, and was just going off into a learned disqui- 
sition concerning the differing points between this mas- 
terpiece of Gaertner's and the arch of Constantino at 
Eome, which evidently suggested the Sieges Thor at 
Munich, when I suddenly perceived that the gentleman 
was not stretching his chin up at the same angle as 
mine (and which he ought to have been doing), but 
that he was intently gazing at something down the 
road, through one of the arches. I could see nothing 
but a horse-car gliding quietly along, and becoming a 
less and less spot of blue in the distance, while the 
I n 17 



194 GENERAL GRANTS TOUR. 

sound of its little bells on the horse had entirely- 
died away. But the gentleman had been evidently 
watching that very car, for just when I was in the 
most complicated part of my architectural analysis, 
he said, without raising his eyes from the ground, " I 
wonder what kind of grease they use for their axles 
in this country?" I am sure, even if I had known, I 
would not have told him for any consideration. 

I was appointed to office by President Grant. I got 
my appointment in the way the most of them are pro- 
cured, — through the recommendation of some senator 
or congressman. At any rate, I felt very thankful to 
President Grant for conferring such an honor on me. 

President Hayes came out so strongly in regard 
to civil service reform before his election, that there 
was no backing out afterwards, and with his coming 
in fewer official changes were made (at least in the 
consular service) with the change of administration 
than had ever been made before. So it happened that 
when General Grant spread his Saratoga trunks over 
the civilized world, ready to take up in their capacious 
maws all the addresses, testimonials, and the more sub- 
stantial expressions of admiration that were showered 
upon him, most of the United States representatives 
abroad were of his creation, and were directly under 
obligations to him for the positions they held. It 
was perfectly natural, therefore, that if General Grant 
visited any of the cities to which such officers were ac- 
credited, they would show him that attention that was 
due to his rank and for his long and eminent services 
to our country. 

Had our then President (Hayes) any distrust of his 
ministers and consuls, who were still holding their 
offices under him, so to speak, on suiferance, or was the 
Department of State oversensitive or shaky in its 
opinion of the gentlemanliness of its subordinates 
abroad, that it saw fit to issue the following circular, 
which seemed to me to be as uncalled for as it was 
didactic in its spirit? — 



• 



CIRCULAR OF DEPARTMENT OF STATE. 195 

"Department op State, 
"Washington, May 23, 1877. 

"To the 

^^Diplomatic and Consular Officers of the United States : 
'' Gentlemen : 

"General Ulysses S. Grant, the late President of the 
United States, sailed from Philadelphia on the 17th in- 
stant for Liverpool. The route and extent of his travels, 
as well as the duration of his sojourn abroad, were alike 
undetermined at the time of his departure, the object 
of his journey being to secure a few months of rest and 
recreation after sixteen years of unremitting and de- 
voted labor in the military and civil service of his 
country. 

*^ The enthusiastic manifestations of popular regard 
and esteem for General Grant, shown by the people in all 
parts of the country that he has visited since his retire- 
ment from official life, and attending his every appear- 
ance in public from the day of that retirement up to 
the moment of his departure for Europe, indicate be- 
yond question the high place he holds in the grateful 
affections of his countrymen. 

" Sharing in the largest measure this general public 
sentiment, and, at the same time, expressing the wishes 
of the President, I desire to invite the aid of the 
Diplomatic and Consular officers of the government 
to make his journey a pleasant one, should he visit 
their posts. I feel already assured that you will find 
patriotic pleasure in anticipating •the wishes of the De- 
partment by showing hihi that attention and considera- 
tion which is due from every officer of the government 
to a citizen of the Eepublic so signally distinguished 
both in official service and personal renown. 
"I am, gentlemen, 

" Your obedient servant, 
(Signed) "Wm. M. Evarts." 

Reading between the lines, it was plain that the 
meaning of this exhortation was not only that it was 
expected of our ministers and consuls to Bhow their 
outward respect to our great commander by putting 



196 GENERAL GRANT IN MUNICH. 

on a fresh paper collar for the occasion, but that it 
embodied that sterner adjuration of lago's, "Put 
money in thy purse." I think it would have been 
more graceful on the part of the Department to have 
left its consuls and ministers to follow their own in- 
stincts, and I don't think they would have brought 
shame on the Department thereby, while certainly, to 
the fine-feeling traveller, the social homage paid him 
must have a better flavor if he knows it to be sponta- 
neous, and not commanded from above. 

Everybody has heard of General Grant's travels, — 
how his few months were extended, how tokens of 
regard were presented to him by corporations and 
cities and states, and by potentates of every degree 
and complexion, and how juicy dinners were given 
him everywhere. He was a most comprehensive 
traveller, — he took in everything ; he left scarcely a 
country unvisited. 

It was to be expected, then, that such a city as Mu- 
nich would not be slighted. 

From Switzerland the general wrote to me that he 
was coming to Munich on a certain day next week, in- 
tending to spend the next day there, and on the fol- 
lowing morning to leave again. It was in August, — 
at a time when there are scarcely any of the residents 
or sojourning Americans in town ; however, a notice 
sent to what few there were still in the city brought 
them together, and we made plans for receiving the 
general next day, and doing the best we could. We 
were just about breaking up for the evening, and were 
fully prepared for making an onslaught on the flower- 
shops and for going to the station to meet the general 
and Mrs. Grant the next day, as a first step, when 
the little circle was startled b}^ the arrival of a note 
from the proprietor of the hotel where they had pro- 
posed staying. This considerate gentleman, just in the 
nick of time, sent us word that he, had received infor- 
mation that the general had concluded to put off* his 
visit till November. That note saved us the mortifica- 
tion at least of rushing to the station armed with 
pretty speeches and flowers and having nobody to fire 



GENERAL GRANT IN MUNICH, 197 

them at. After having been written to so particularly 
as to when the general was coming, and how long he 
was going to stay, I had imagined that he would also 
have let me know directly of the change of his plans. 
But I suppose his not doing so was a war stratagem 
which I could not understand ; at any rate, we were 
debarred the pleasure of seeing him that time. 

It was not till September of the next year that 
General Grant did come to Munich. This time his 
courier wrote to me. 

Notice was again given to the few Americans in 
town to assemble together. They mostly seem to have 
heard in their childhood the story of the little boy that 
cried '' wolves! wolves!" — fooling the people who 
rushed to his rescue, so that when the wolves really 
did come, the people thought he was only making fun 
again. The gentlemen assembled were not as enthusi- 
astic this time as I could have wished to see them. It 
was evident that if anything was to be arranged in 
the way of a festive reception, it must be done by the 
American artists, but they were all off in the country 
making studies, only two or three happening to be 
about. 

It was again determined to do the best we could. 

The day had been fixed by the courier when we 
were to expect the general, but on the day preceding 
I received a letter from him about noon, that the gen- 
eral and Mrs. Grant would arrive that very evening at 
six o'clock. I had onl}'- time, therefore, to capture the 
best flowers that Munich could produce on such short 
notice, and found myself at the station, a deputation 
of one, with a hired fellow behind me holding the 
flowers. A sudden storm came up, and it was raining 
in torrents, and the wind blowing a gale as if it would 
lift the roof from the building and carry it away. 

The train was nearly an hour behind time, and I 
stood on the tiptoe of expectation ; when the train at 
last did come, the warning whistle sent a strange thrill 
through mo. I straightened myself up to give myself 
as soldierlike an appearance as possible, lor I thought 
I should feel awed in the presence of the martial form 



198 GENERAL GRANT IN MUNICH, 

and military bearing of our greatest soldier. I don't 
know why it was that I was picturing to myself some- 
thing like General Scott before age had bent him. I 
knew that Grant was not a tall man, but the fame of 
the hero of so many bloody battle-fields makes the 
impression on one's imagination of his being something 
grander than ordinary mortals. I knew his predilec- 
tion for military men, and I was keenly sensitive that 
I might appear a very small and insignificant civilian 
aside of him. 

When he got out of the cars I knew him at once, 
though he was not at all like what I had been ex- 
pecting. He wore a light summer overcoat and car- 
ried an umbrella ; his figure was stooping, and, except 
that he had a full beard and moustache, he looked like 
a meek Pennsylvania Friend from the country in his 
First-day clothes. But what took me still more aback 
was the smallness of his voice. Could those thin, 
piping tones, I thought, be the ones that were heard 
above the roar of artillery, the rattle of musketry, the 
clashing of swords, — shouting commands to his aides ? 

I believe he was not feeling quite well (he had just 
come from the baths of Eagaz), and he intimated that 
he would like to have a few days' rest. After escorting 
them to their quarters at the hotel, I left them for the 
evening. 

Their stay at Munich was short and quiet : the gen- 
eral was busy all the time with his correspondence. I 
asked him if he would not like to see the galleries, the 
museum, the bronze foundry, etc. (there were no sol- 
diers in town, for it was just the time of the autumn ma- 
noeuvres), but he kept his cigar in his mouth and replied, 
" Well, I guess I don't care much to see such things ;" 
but when I asked him (as we were walking through 
the Maximilians Strasse not far from his hotel) if he were 
thirsty and would like to go to the Court Brewery, close 
by, and get some of the best beer in the world, his 
cigar twinkled, and he said he had no objection. When 
we drew up to that noble building and entered the yard 
and tried to wedge our way through the crowd of 
people standing elbow to elbow, and each armed with 



GENERAL GRANT IN MUNICH. 199 

a quart pot in his hand, and heard the hum of thou- 
sands of voices and saw the happy expression of gusto 
in the fiaees of the drinkers, I noticed for the first and 
only time during his visit an approach to a smile on 
the general's staid countenance. The incipient smile 
was only momentary, still, it was index enough to 
denote that the general was tickled. This army of 
beer-drinkers had conquered his gravity for a single 
second. 

It is the work of some minutes to get inside the 
building, which is always just as jammed as the yard, 
only that here the majority of the people are sitting on 
dirty benches at dirty tables, but with all the passages 
filled with standers, whilst in the yard all have to 
stand except those few lucky ones who get hold of an 
empty barrel to serve as seat and table. There is not 
much done in the way of waiting on the public at this 
establishment ; there are about two serving-women for 
a couple of thousand guests, so that it is only the 
favored ones that can get hold of one of these Hebes to 
fetch him his drink. The mass of the frequenters of 
this place wait on themselves, and prefer to do so. 
The receipt for getting your beer is something like the 
receipt for cooking a hare, — " First, you catch your 
hare.'* The manner of proceeding is this: the first 
thing that is wanted is a mug to put the beer in, — one 
therefore hunts around for an empty mug. These 
mugs are of gray stoneware with a pewter cover and 
a number engraved thereon. If anywhere a mug is 
standing with the lid left open, it is a sign that it is 
empty, and at the disposal of any new-comer, or if it 
is lying on its side, it is empty fer se. 

Grant watched my tactics as if it were some new 
war manoeuvre ; I felt flattered by his interest in the 
proceedings. After a careful reconnoissanco I at last 
succeeded in capturing two mugs. The next thing is 
to skirmish through the crowd to the hydrant with 
the big stone trough under it to wash the mugs tho- 
roughly (for each man washes his mug carefully first, 
— and indeed, each time he gets the same mug filled 
again). The next position to take by storm is the long 



200 VISIT TO COURT BREWERY. 

counter, behind which the flowing beer-barrels are 
posted, and once there, you shove your mug along the 
counter, being very careful to note your number, and 
at the same time to pay the price of the beer. The 
mugs are snatched up by another man behind and set 
with uptilted lids on a long tray beneath the spigots, 
which are attended to by a third man ; the mugs are 
pushed along in Indian-file under the flow, and are so 
deftly handled that the moment one is full the next 
one is shoved in its place, and so it sometimes happens 
that a barrel of several hundred quarts is emptied 
without once turning off^ the spigot. As the full mugs 
work their way along the tray they are taken up by 
the second man and brought to the counter, and he 
calls out the numbers in a rapid manner, which, if 
translated, might sound something like the following: 
*' Sev'n hund fo teen nint fo six hund twent sev two 
bund tate five hund two eight sev nine hund twent 
six fo sev nint fo," etc., without a comma, colon, or 
dash between either. Each fellow makes a dive for his 
mug and shoulders his way out of the crowd, — if such 
a term were proper, — but it is rather a shifting of posi- 
tion only in one contiguous crowd. When the jam is 
more than usually dense there is a little stratagem em- 
ployed (and it is always done on such occasions), that 
of singing out, ^^ Sauce meine, Herrenr — '^ Gravy, gentle- 
men !" This is intended to imply that one is carrying 
a dish of stew high over the heads of the crowd, and 
considerately wishes to avoid spilling the gravy on the 
shoulders or the shirt-fronts of those around him. It 
generally has the desired eff*ect, and a few inches more 
passage-way is allowed one. 

At last we got out into the yard again, where the 
general put his quart inside of him without winking. 
He only stopped once in the middle to take breath and 
to remark, " Ah, this is excellent beer I" When I asked 
him if he would like to have another go, he said, "My, 
mercy, I could hardly get that down." 

I don't think he paid the beer any unmeaning com- 
pliment, for that same evening (my colleague from 
Nuremberg happening to come to Munich to pay his 



LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION. 201 

respects) the general particularly requested him to go 
with him again to the Court Brewery, and there he put 
down more of the delicious stuff. The general, on this 
occasion, employed the services of a kellnerin to bring 
his beer to him. He created some stir afterwards by 
giving her a two-mark piece (fifty cents) as *a tip. It 
was a lucky thing for him that he got away unmolested, 
for the giving of such an immense sum as a tip at the 
Court Brewery is liable to raise suspicion in the breasts 
of its frequenters of the money having been honestly 
come by. 

It has already been mentioned that a great many peo- 
ple come to the consul armed with letters of introduc- 
tion from persons of high standing in the United States. 
Many travellers think it more necessary to provide 
themselves with such helps — which are so easy to be 
got — than with a passport. That consuls are very 
often bored by such visitors, who generally come to the 
consulate and poke their letter of introduction into the 
consul's hand, and then expect him to devote at least 
an hour of his valuable time to their conversation, can 
easily be conceived. It is not always out of respect to 
the person that comes, but out of respect to the writer, 
that one must bear the infliction. There has been 
great abuse practised in the indiscriminate furnishing 
of such letters of introduction. I have no doubt that 
many consuls take the same view of the matter. One 
of them writes in introducing a particular friend of 
his, "I am sure that in bringing you together I confer 

a favor on both, for Mr. I know to be one of 

those Americans whom we consuls do not dread to 
encounter," etc. 

Our State Department was formerly very lavish in 
its gifts of such letters, — any decently-dressed person 
could get one by going there, — but in a circular of 1881, 
addressed to the Diplomatic and Consular Officers of 
the United States, it says, "Letters of introduction in 
favor of American citizens travelling abroad will hero- 
after only be issued to officers of the government, or in 
cases where some special reason may make it the in- 



202 CONFEDERATE NOTES. 

terest of the Department to commend some one to 
your consideration for a particular purpose. The prac- 
tice of granting general introductory letters to facilitate 
travel will be discontinued. 

'' With regard to outstanding letters of introduction, I 
have to observe that personal commendation to your 
courteous attentions is not to be construed as import- 
ing any claim to the hospitalities of the representatives 
of the United States abroad, or as requiring more than 
the kindly civilities which are naturally due to coun- 
trj-men in a strange land, and which it is presumed 
they uniformly receive at your hands. For such pur- 
pose a passport or evidence of citizenship and identity 
is thought to be sufficient. Under no circumstances is 
it intended that the recommendation of the Depart- 
ment should entail any charge on you, or constrain 
you to render personal service to a visitor to the detri- 
ment of the business of your office." 

There are some mean people in this world, — there are 
some very mean people. I'm sorry to say weVe got a 
few of them in the United States. 

After our war, I think there were at least a score of 
cases of people who came to the consulate to ask me 
how much certain notes were worth that they had re- 
ceived from America. Sometimes it was a loving 
brother who sent his poor sisters in the Fatherland so 
and so many dollars as a present, sometimes it was an 
affectionate son who sent his old father something to 
help him along, and sometimes it was an honorable 
debtor who not only wanted to square up, but who 
wanted to do the handsome thing by sending his patient 
creditor a round sum covering the amount of the origi- 
nal loan with a fat rate of interest for his long waiting. 
These tokens were sent in the form of government 
notes, and the beaming recipients (mostly from the 
country) generally thought that I was the person to 
cash them. These notes were government notes, but 
they were of the government of the Confederate States, 
which nobly volunteered to pay " to the bearer, two 
years after the ratification of peace," etc. 



THE PASSION PLAY, 203 

It was heartrending to witness the despair of these 
people sometimes when I w^as obliged to tell them that 
the notes were worth about as much as the paper they 
were printed on, unless they could find somebody that 
was fond of buying curiosities; then, perhaps, they 
might get twice as much. 

A young and very modest (sic) sculptor was once 
asked why he did not have some of his works cast at the 
royal bronze foundry. " Oh, I haven't brass enough for 
that," he said. 



CHAPTEE XIV. 



The Passion play at Oberammergau — Interviewed as to my opinions of 
the play — Performance at New York prohibited — Origin of the play — 
Loss of originality — Successive alterations and improvements — Speci- 
men of the old text — Reforms — The performers — Edward Devrient's 
book — The representatives of the characters — Morality of the Ammer- 
gauers — A village brawl (note) — Opinions of English and Ameri- 
cans — The acting — Quotations from Devrient's book — The effect pro- 
duced upon us — The mind prepared for the play — Effect on devout 
Catholics — The stage — The absence of something — Dialect — Lodgings 
with the thief — The little child actress — Why do people say " Christus" ? 
— Meeting Christ in the cars — Personal appearance of Maier — Eating 
curds and whey with mustard — An Americanism ! " I cannot en- 
thuse" — " He talks like an Englishman." 

So much has been written about the Passion play at 
Oberammergau that I presume all my readers, even 
those who have not seen it performed, have a full 
knowledge of its history, and a good idea of the sub- 
stance of the drama and of its mode of representation. 

I would not inflict my readers with anything further 
about it, only that during the years of its performance 
I was written to so much in reference to it by travel- 
ling Americans who had a desire to see it,* and was 

* So many letters were received, asking for information as to the days 
of the performance, price of places, and beht moans of getting there, to- 
gether with requests to secure tickets and lodgings for strangers, that it 



204 THE PASSION PLAY. 

interviewed by them both before and after they had 
been there as to what I thought of its moral tendency, 
it now seems a sort of gentle retaliation to write still 
a few lines about it here. 

The ultra-religious, or, better perhaps, the ultra- 
sectarian, had their doubts about the propriety of the 
thing, though they had a strong hankering to see it ; 
and if they did go to see it, they did it probably on the 
principle of the good clergyman who read all the bad 
books that he might be better able to preach against 
them and warn his flock to keep clear of them. Yet 
there was scarcely an}^ need for pious laymen having 
any scruples about going there, seeing that hundreds 
of clergymen of all denominations and of all countries 
found nothing wrong in doing so. The opinions of 
these clergymen and of strict church people who had 
been to Oberaramergau differed of course widely from 
each other, but the majority of those with whom I 
spoke were fully impressed with the grandeur of the 
play, and did not find anything revolting or objec- 
tionable in such a performance as performed at Oberam- 
mergau. That is the justest criticism of the whole 
thing. When a speculative individual proposed giving 
a similar performance in New York, I was heartily 
glad that the mayor so strenuously protested against 
it and refused giving a license. What here springs 
from an inward conviction on the part of the simple 
villagers of the sanctity of their doings, would be there 
but a foul device for prostituting the effects of the stage 
to render coarse and commonplace what we instinc- 
tively feel should be veiled in the mystery of awe. 
The Passion play is a thing that cannot be transplanted ; 
it is as much a growth of the soil as the silk-like star 
of the edelweiss that clings to the rocks of the highest 
and almost inaccessible peaks of the Bavarian moun- 
tains, — nearest to the eternal snows whose color it 
takes. 



was necessary to issue a little circular from the consulate giving all the 
essential data for the benefit of American visitors as a general answer 
to their letters. 



THE PASSION PLAY, 205 

The present Passion play is a survival of the old 
church plays called " mysteries," because they were in- 
tended to impress upon the minds of the people the 
mystery of the divine religion, and they date back al- 
most to the founding of the Christian Church. When 
Christianity spread to Germany these plays also found 
their way there, and already in the twelfth century 
they were performed with great pomp. Originally, 
the performance took place in the church itself, after- 
wards in the graveyard or some other consecrated 
spot. The pieces were written by the priests, and the 
priests themselves personated God-Father, Christ, the 
apostles and the saints ; the other characters alone were 
allowed to be performed by the unanointed. Passages 
from the life of Christ and also plays founded on the 
historical narratives contained in the Old Testament 
were presented, but the passion of Christ and his re- 
surrection always remained the most popular and the 
n^st engrossing subject on account of its thrilling dra- 
matic interest. The Oberammergauers, when they 
made their solemn vow in 1633, at the time of the 
plague, that they would represent the passion of Christ 
every ten years, were already acquainted with the play 
in the form in which it was written by the monks of 
the neighboring monastery of Ettal. With the excep- 
tion of one or two interruptions, for which the Ammer- 
gauers were not responsible, the vow has been kept to 
the present day. 

There is only one other place where the play is still 
performed, — at Brixlegg, in Tyrol, but it never there 
reached the eminence of the Ammergau play, nor did 
it ever approach the latter in the artistic manner of its 
getting up nor in the histrionic skill of its actors. 

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries there 
was scarcely a village in the mountain districts of Ba- 
varia and Tyrol that did not have its religious play of 
some kind, and, especially during Lent, the Passion play. 
But in places where they were not directed by the 
clergy, or by the monks, these plays began to lose the 
strict religious decorum of the surroundings which at- 
tended their original representations, and tliey began 

18 



206 THE PASSION PLAY. 

to be resorted to by the peasants more as places for 
festive meetings than for devotional purposes, so that 
through the efforts of the clergy and the state they 
were finally suppressed in 1781. 

If some people complain that the Passion play as 
now performed has lost its originality, and that the 
acting is no longer the simple exponent of the religious 
feeling on the part of the actors which it formerly was, 
they are not doing full justice to the performance nor 
to its histor3^ 

Our taste has become more refined in the course of 
centuries than it was in the middle ages when manners 
and customs were much rougher, and what then was 
not considered at all out of the way would shock us 
ver}^ much now. The play, as successively altered, has 
been also successively improved, both in text and in its 
scenic arrangement, as well as in the accompanying 
music. In its original form, and indeed in the form in 
which it was given up to the end of the last century, 
it was full of absurdities, not to use a harsher word. 
The devil in person held a prominent part in the 
play, and his satellites often filled the stage. Their 
pranks were of the most ludicrous kind, and espe- 
cially, when the punishment of Judas came on, they 
performed freaks which would be disgusting to our 
tastes, both morally and aesthetically, but which at 
that time greatly enhanced the dramatic power of 
the play in the minds of the audience. When the arch- 
betrayer had hanged himself, these little devils cut him 
down and then cut open his stomach and feasted 
luxuriantly upon his entrails, which were made of 
smoking sausages, so that it was worth something to 
the village urchins to be allowed to play such demon- 
iacal parts. Tbe text, too, was quite in keeping with 
the performance. When Judas came on the stage, rope 
in hand, and in doggerel verses cursed his hard lot, 
Lucifer upon his throne, sitting in state, and surrounded 
by his imps, declaimed as follows : 

" Ha ! ha ! my Judas, I guess 
I've got you now ; 
I'll make the leaping fire hot, I vow. 



THE PASSION PLAY, 207 

You'll have to roast forever and a day. 
Why did your master you betray ? 
Hello ! ye devils, come and take him ; 
Forever now I'll burn and bake him." 

Such scenes and such unadorned language were 
popular with the peasantry, and the bodily presence of 
Satan as the exponent of all evil, and of his imps as the 
all obsequious servants doing his will, made the moral 
application of the piece more understandable to them. 
It was a difficult business for those reformers, who, with 
better taste, saw that the evil influence working in 
mankind should be represented in the character of 
Judas itself, and not through the visible presence of 
Satan, to do away with him and his court, — and it was 
not until the beginning of the present century (1811) 
that this was accomplished. 

It is not to be regretted that the play has been 
thoroughly expurgated and that the text has been re- 
vised and rewritten, so as to make it more in harmony 
with the dramatic earnestness of the characters and the 
situation. 

In regard to the performers themselves, it may be 
said that if they have lost anything in the originality 
of their representation, they have gained more than 
they have lost, in the better understanding of their 
task attained by good and intelligent schooling. In 
consequence of the improved means of communication, 
the villagers of Oberammergau are not as isolated as 
in former years, and the outer world being more easy 
of access to them, many of the present performers have 
seen dramatic representations and good acting on the 
stage of Munich. Even if they are unwilling to take 
the acting of a profane subject as a model for that of 
their religious performance, or even if they are incapa- 
ble of imitating the manners of good orators and good 
delineators, the}' still get some idea there of stage pro- 
prieties and of the most eflfectivo ways of communicat- 
ing the words and meaning and sj)irit of the author to 
the audience. As the Ammergau play is intellectually 
gotten up on the co-operative plan to a groat extent, 
it is evident that those who have seen acting at other 



208 THE PASSION PLAF. 

places can. besides guiding themselves thereby, influence 
others in the matter of stage deportment, so that by 
degrees the sharp edges of the performance have thus 
been rounded off and a greater harmony in the whole 
design attained than was formerly the case. 

If it be said that the villagers' playing is addressed 
rather to the high pei^onages and educated strangere 
who throng the dearest places than to the simple 
peasantry on their hard benches — and who composed 
their original audience — said that everything is done 
to win the approbation (and the money) of the former, 
the answer is, that the first-named classes of people are 
now in the majority, and really give the most material 
support to the undertaking; yet it would be doing 
great injustice to the good people of Ammergau to say 
that they would not perform with the same spirit and 
earnestness even if the boxes and the higher places 
were empty, or were occupied only by peasants like 
themselves. One must never leave out of sight the 
origin of the performance; the religion of the people 
which binds them to their church and its observances 
binds them also to the vow of their forefathers, and, 
audience or no audience, they will still continue to give 
the play, — and their children after them will do the 
same. 

Before the year 1850, when Edward Devrient, the 
great German tragedian, visited Oberammergau, and, 
in the following year, wrote a most favorable criticism 
of the play, it was scarcely known outside of Bavaria, 
and there were only a few chance visitors from other 
countries. His book gave the performance popularity, 
and at each succeeding representation strangers from 
all parts of Europe (among whom the English were 
prominent) and our own countrymen in ever-increasing 
numbers thronged the roads leading to Oberammergau 
and filled the higher-priced places in the auditorium. 

There is one thing that prevents the play from 
degenerating into a mere theatrical performance. The 
representatives of the different charactei^s having only 
the aid of costume, but not that of the ordinary stage 
*' make up'' in the way of paint and wigs, are selected 



THE PASSION PLAY. 209 

in accordance with their natural resemblance to the 
personages in the play as transmitted to us by tradi- 
tional descriptions or by the accepted types as painted 
by the old masters. Thus each person for months 
before the play takes place (sometimes even for years), 
feels himself identified with the character he is to per- 
sonate; that character is nothing new or strange to 
him ; he has learned to know it thoroughly through 
illustrations given from the pulpit of the village church 
from his youth up, and when he comes to take it on 
himself he feels an increased interest in it. When he 
goes upon the stage, having no other preparation to 
make than to put on the simple costume, it is nothing 
further to him than the changing of one raiment for 
another, and he enters into the action of the piece 
almost in his natural character. Knowing his part 
perfectly, and that of all the rest, his mind is not 
hampered by having to look to any prompter for his 
cue or for the words of his own speech, so there is no 
balking on the part of any performer nor in the play 
itself. 

There may be some of the inhabitants of the village, 
it is true, who are not fully imbued with the sanctity 
of the performance (for there is no community on earth 
where all are saints) ; but then, in making a choice of 
the character which each is to take, it is not the out- 
ward resemblance alone of the real man to his ideal 
that is taken into consideration, but his moral standing 
also has a great deal to do in the matter. For the 
part of Christ, for instance, it is not enough that the 
mere personal appearance of the performer should be 
suitable, but he must also be a man of acknowledged 
religious character, — a man whose life is pure, whose 
reputation is spotless, and whose moral tendencies are 
of the highest. Indeed, it would shock the feelings of 
the most depraved if, in illustration of the character 
and actions of Christ, it were not known that the per- 
former was at least as godly a man as the community 
can furnish, known to all, and approved by the village 
priest as a man worthy to take tiie part. But it must 
not be understood that the performers are graduated 
o 18* 



210 THE PASSION PLAY. 

in their moral standing according to the characters 
they have to play, for Judas and Pilate are probably 
just as good men in private life as any of the others, 
and it would be hard to find men willing to take such 
parts if it were supposed that they w^ere selected be- 
cause of any affinit}' in their nature with that of the 
arch-traitor or the weak ruler; my meaning is, simply, 
that only those of irreproachable character and those 
w^ho are impressed with the earnest and devotional 
spirit of the play are taken for the principal parts. 

But the whole village of Oberammergau is noted for 
its good morals,* The performing of the pla}^ itself 
w'ith all that pertains to it, its traditions, its close asso- 
ciation with the historical events which shadowed forth 
in the Old Testament the coming of one who was to 
redeem the world, the teachin<rs of forgiveness and for- 
bearance as exemplified in the life of Christ, and, abov^e 
all, the immediate and intimate and frequent contact 
into which the villagers are brought with their curate, 
— all these have their influence in softening the man- 
ners and in curbing the passions of the people. 

Englishmen and Americans generally go to Oberam- 
mergau either with their expectations raised too high, 
or with too little preparation from previous reading up 
of the subject, and in consequence, those of the former 
class are often greatly disappointed with the play, 
while the others seem quite bewildered, and forming a 
hasty judgment from impressions only, they either laud 
the whole performance as being nothing short of per- 
fection, or they sum up their opinion of the representa- 
tion, of the players, and of the tendency of the play as 
blasphemous, coarse, degrading. What they sec and 
hear is shocking to them because the familiarity with 
which the subjects of the Old and New Testament are 



*0n one occasion, in the evening, after the play, when the streets 
were crowded with departing guests, there was a brawl before one of the 
taverns which attracted our attention. An old man seeing us standing 
there (it was the one who had been Abraham in one of the tiibleaux) 
came up to us and hastened to explain that they were peasants from 
quite another part of the country, and not Ammergaueis; he seemed 
jealous for the good reputation of the village. 



THE PASS TON PLAT. 211 

treated is so new to them. They forget, or do not 
take into account, that in the Catholic churches people 
are accustomed from childhood up to seeing statues 
and paintings of all the saints, of Christ and the Virgin 
Mary, and even of God-Father. The sculptured fig- 
ures, mostly of wood and painted in the natural colors, 
are often lovingly (if tastelessly) dressed in gorgeous 
raiments of silk and cloth and gold, like children dress 
their dolls. On certain festivals these figures are car- 
ried around the village on the shoulders of youths and 
of young girls. The figure of Christ on the cross, in 
every possible material, of every size, — from that of 
your little finger to the colossal, — and with every 
liberty taken with anatomy that it is possible to take, 
is on every roadside and in every house, in every 
tavern ; they pray to it, converse with it, and even 
handle it reverentially and kiss it. They know that 
these figures are the work of men's hands (numbers of 
them being made in Oberammergau itself), — they arc 
not worshipped as idols, but are looked upon as the 
Bj^mbol of their religion, as a constant reminder of the 
sufl'ering that was gone through by its founder for the 
redemption of mankind. It is but a slight step further 
for them to give actual life to the figures and action to 
the scenes that are so well known to them. If our 
people find an^^thing revolting to their religious feelings 
in the play, they must recollect that it was never 
written for them, nor intended for their approval, but 
for those upon whose minds the living picture of the 
suffering of Christ and of his final triumph would have 
a beneficial eifect. 

As regards the acting itself, I think there can bo no 
more competent judge than Edward Devrient, the actor, 
before alluded to. In describing the first scene, the 
entry of Christ into Jerusalem (to my mind the most 
imposing scene of all), he says: "Christ approaches 
the anterior stage (through the city gate to the left), 
upon which the sunshine is streaming, which at the fii^st 
glimpse seems to concentrate u|)on him like a halo. 
His descent from the ass is easy and lull of grace, tor 
he does not bestride the animal, but sits sideways like 



212 THE PASSION PLAY, 

the women. All such things are done with a remarka- 
ble tenderness of feeling." " It makes the most won- 
drous impression on us to see our Saviour — that 
conception nurtured in our imagination as its most 
cherished object from childhood up, seen by us in so 
many pictures — here moving before us in bodily pres- 
ence, and speaking. The performer is, in his outward 
appearance, so excellent that we give ourselves up en- 
tirely to the artistic illusion. Not only his person, but 
his very motions seem to grow out of old pictures. 
The gestures of his arms, of his hands, the light and 
yet so quiet gait, — everything is done in the most rev- 
erent manner, and yet all so natural, so unstudied, so 
inherent. One feels that the rdle is not learned, but 
lived through." 

In alluding to the scene in the temple where Christ 
overturns the tables of the money-changers and of 
other dealers, and the seats of them that sell doves, 
and of the tumult that thereupon ensues, he says : " All 
these different groups speak together in masses, and 
3^et distinctly, with the greatest anger and vehemence, 
and yet there is no discordant screaming. Christ's 
words are heard clear through all the din of the multi- 
tude. Everything preserves its just balance, and yet 
all is full of life and energy. There are no supernu- 
meraries upon the stage, — that is, dumb persons who 
only fill out a place, — all are real actors ; all, even the 
little children, speak and gesticulate. But it is remark- 
able that the machinery of the drilling is never detected 
in the action. We believe we see real persons, who 
all, and moved bj^ the same living impulse, have the 
same words on their lips." 

At the conclusion of the morning performance he 
says : " I w^as moved to ecstasy by the fulness of the 
impressions which I received from the first part of the 
play. My doubts in regard to the much-worried ques- 
tion as to the propriety of representing the person of 
our Saviour on the stage were completely dispelled 
from that hour; I was conquered." 

— ''Not only that no protanation of our idea of the 
Saviour could be here thought of, but the spiritual pic- 



THE PASSION PLAY, 213 

ture presented obtained such a convincing reality 
through its bodily presence among other men, that 
many things relating to Christ's appearance on earth 
that I had tried to make clear to myself now for the 
first time took the form of actuality." 

— *' On his triumphal entry, surrounded by the mul- 
titude crying hosanna, I read upon his brow that he 
was yet to be their victim. In the midst of the excited 
opponents, still victorious in spirit, the knowledge of 
the necessity of his sacrifice already seemed to throw 
its shadow over the simple, afi*ecting figure. That un- 
derstood apparition was doomed — from the very begin- 
ning — to be denied, betrayed, and abandoned by all 
who were now following him." 

— " I began to feel already that the crime of man- 
kind against its ideal was to be brought home to my 
heart by this village tragedy with such thrilling per- 
ceptibility as no words or pictures had yet had the 
power to impart." 

Independently of the subject of the play and its 
highly dramatic incidents, which both appeal so di- 
rectly to all hearts, and of the vividness of the action, 
the effect produced upon us is still further heightened 
by the novelty of the scene and the situation ; by the 
unusual arrangement and colossal dimensions of the 
stage and the auditorium ; by the ingenious alternation 
of the living pictures from the Old Testament (embodj^- 
ing each a prophecy referring to the ensuing scene of 
the play) with their accompanying explanation by the 
chorus of guardian spirits, and the drama proper; and, 
lastly, by the quiet demeanor of the audience, and the 
rapt and devotional expression seen on every face. 

One enters the building with a mind prepared for 
earnest, thoughtful attention. 

The ride or the walk from Murnau to Oberammer- 
gau is one of quiet beauty. We are approaching the 
rolling hills which are the outworks of the grand B»- 
varian Alps. Beyond the first range are seen the dis- 
tant peaks bathed in the soft colored light of the sotting 
sun, while the country we are passing through, undu- 



214 THE PASSION PLAY. 

lating in its character and crossed by many a mountain 
stream, is clothed with the most luxuriant vegetation. 
To those who have never been in a mountainous coun- 
try as well as to those who know the mountains well 
— and love them, — it seems like entering into a new 
land of promise. 

Notwithstanding the prosaic scrambling to secure 
one's bed and supper on arrival, on being awakened at 
daybreak the next morning by the firing of cannon and 
the sound of the village band moving through the 
streets, and on going out into the pure, fresh early 
mountain air, the dew glistening on the grass, and see- 
ing thousands and thousands of people pouring — an 
endless caravan — towards the theatre like a pilgriin- 
a2:e to a holy city, a new sensation takes hold of us. 
We are thrilled with expectancy. A mysterious feel- 
ing (almost akin to awe) that we are about to witness 
scenes that will deeply affect us creeps over us. I 
think even the most hardened, the most thoughtless, 
and even those who have no belief, must still concede 
that the story of the career of Christ on earth, his suf- 
ferings, the contumely to which he was subjected, his 
base betrayal, his humble yet steadfast bearing, and 
his final triumph, form the most touching drama that 
has ever existed or can be conceived of If to the 
minds of those who, putting aside the divine origin of 
Christ, look upon him merely as a historical character, 
the narrative of the New Testament is full of pathos, 
with how much greater force must it move the hearts 
of those who are inspired with its truth. It is by being 
mingled wnth thousands of the latter who, about enter- 
ing to witness in tangible form what has hitherto only 
laid hold of their imagination, show by their deport- 
ment the solemnity of the occasion, that those of less 
faith are tinged with a feeling of earnestness also. 
When standing at an open grave, although we may not 
have known the deceased, and the death may not in 
any way personally concern us, yet the grief of those 
around draws us instinctively into sj^mpathy with them 
and with him for whom they mourn. 

It is very difficult for me to express in words what I 



THE PASSION PLAY. 215 

was inwardly impressed with on observing the surging 
crowd on my visit to Oberammergau. The idea I seek 
to convey is, that even before entering the building 
our minds voluntarily or involuntarily have been 
brought to a slate of solemn preparation so different 
from the entire absence of emotion with which we 
enter an ordinary theatre, or other place of entertain- 
ment. 

Once inside the building (or, rather, enclosure) and 
having secured our seats, the first thing that strikes us 
is the immensity of the structure. From the covered 
loges at the back the seats sweep down a long inclined 
plane, to the stage, so that the figures in front seem 
quite small from the great distance they are from us. 
The stage itself, with its proscenium of eighty feet in 
width, its curious combination of open space in front 
with the covered inner stage in the centre, having the 
houses of Pilate and Annas adjoining it on either side, 
and beyond these again, to the right and left, the 
streets of Jerusalem running far back behind the cen- 
tral stage, — all this is so novel, and so well adapted to 
the movement of the play, that the mind loses itself in 
quiet speculation as to how grand the effect will be 
when all is filled with actors. We have heard that in 
some scenes between five and six hundred persons are 
on the boards at once. We now begin to comprehend 
how it is possible for them all to find room. But what 
gives the picture its peculiar charm is, that beyond this 
broad sweep of varied structure (Roman in its general 
character), and rising high above the pediment of the 
temple-like building in the centre, we see the rolling, 
verdure-clad hills forming a background, and the light 
morning clouds floating over them. Nature and iho 
work of men's hands seem here to blend harmoniously 
together. We are in an enclosed building, and yet 
we are in the open air. We hear the low tinkling of 
bells in the distance, we hear the songs of birds, and 
see them flitting above and around us. 

The audience is streaming iti from all sides, yet all is 
hushed and quiet ; the people take their places as they 
would do in a chnrch. 



216 THE PASSION PLAY. 

That the performance is given without the aid of 
artificial light greatly enhances its effect. I have seen 
it in sunshine and in rain, and under either condition 
it struck me that no theatrical appliances of illumina- 
tion would have improved it: the very singularity of 
this feature gives it additional interest. 

While sitting through the long performance, quite 
lost in deep attention, we have yet at times a certain 
undefined feeling of the absence of something, — some- 
thing we do not miss, yet something to which we are 
accustomed. It is like the sensation one experiences at 
Yenice, — we are there in a populous, bustling city, the 
streets are full of passengers, laughing, talking, crjnng 
their wares as in other places, nevertheless we wonder 
every now and then what it is that impresses us so by 
its absence, and it is some time before it occurs to us 
that it is the usual rattle of vehicles and the clattering 
of hoofs that we do not hear. So at Oberammergau, it 
is the absence of all applauding on the part of the vast 
audience that has impressed us so vaguely. 

Those American and English visitors who go to the 
extreme of commendation of everything pertaining to 
the play mostly aver that the performers speak a pure 
German without any dialect. This assertion comes 
from their not being entirely conversant with the lan- 
guage, and from their ears not being able to detect 
what is quite apparent to a German. The Oberam- 
mergauers strive to pronounce their sentences correctly 
on the stage, but being accustomed to their own dialect, 
w^hich is a very broad one (like that of all Upper Ba- 
varia), this unusual manner of speaking sounds very 
affected with the most of them, and their dialect shines 
through notwithstanding the pains they sometimes 
take to conceal it. But after all, there is no great 
necessity for their trying to pronounce in the accepted 
style of the best German. This original performance, 
the outgrowth of the simple poetical proclivities of a 
people dwelling in a mountainous region, would lose 
nothing of its charm if the performers spoke unre- 
strainedly in their own natural tongue. 



THE PASSION PLAY, 217 

On my first visit to Oberammergau I lodged with 
one of the thieves (the bad one who would not repent, 
even on the cross). I had a small room there, barely 
furnished, but everything scrupulously clean and neat, 
. and with an excellent bed. The man was a saddler by 
trade. He told me it was no easy matter hanging on 
to the cross so long (nearly twenty minutes) with his 
arms over the beam, and that it always tired him very 
much. He was a jolly fellow, and had a good deal of 
thirst in him, which he alluded to incidentally ; so we 
had some wine together, and in return he took me all 
over the stage and showed me every part of its simple 
construction, and especially the means by which the 
performer of Christ is attached to the cross. Under 
the stage, and on the meadow back of it, are rude tables 
and benches where the players sit when not engaged 
in the scene : it is pre-eminently a green room. There 
are but a few dressing-rooms, many of the participants, 
especially the children, putting on their costumes at 
home and walking in them to the theatre. One often 
sees the latter flitting about the town, and even during 
the performance, back of the theatre, on the hill-side. 
In one of our rambles we came across a little girl of 
not more than three years, with a light gauze tunic, 
with sandals on her naked feet, and a golden band 
through her flaxen curls, and asked her what she did in 
the play. She said, with childish simplicity, " At the 
manna I do so," suiting the action to the word and 
falling on one knee and stretching out her open palms 
as if catching something, and with upturned face, " and 
at the big grapes I do so," turning half round and 
clasping her hands together as if in astonishment. 
The little thing was proud of her contribution to the 
whole. 

I do not know why all people who speak about the 
Passion play (and those who write about it too) persist 
in always saying "the Christus" instead of "Christ." 
They seem to think it blasphemy to use the English 
word in conversation, and in connection with its human 
representative on the stage. It strikes mo that it is 
K 19 



218 THE PASSION PLAY. 

very poor make-shift for their conscience to do so ; in- 
deed, I think they are really sinning in an opposite 
direction by thereby imputing ignorance to the Deity, 
by whom German is as well understood as English. 
It is like those good people who always say "darned," 
when they know, and we know, and God knows that 
they really mean " damned." 

It was in the summer of 1870, just after the breaking 
out of the Franco-German war. It was the regular 
year for the performance at Oberammergau, but the 
play was suspended, because many of the performers 
had been called to arms. I was at Stamberg with a 
friend, just about taking the train for Munich. In 
looking about for seats my friend exclaimed, " There 
sits Mair;* let's go in to his coupe.*' We soon got into 
conversation with him. Several other performers were 
with him. He told us how, the evening before (Sun- 
day), he had played and had just time to run home, get 
his clothes on, take a hurried leave of his wife and 
children, and, by riding all night, to catch the steam- 
boat at Seeshauptf for the early train. 

He showed us his hands, the palms of which were 
now quite hardened, but had been at first full of 
blisters ; he said the arrangement for holding the hands 
out, with the nail which appears to go through them, 
hurt very much, and that it was a severe strain on the 
whole body to remain on the cross during the twenty 
minutes which the scene lasted, and a great part of 
that time to keep perfectly motionless representing 
death. We made the remark that if he had to join the 
army he would have to have his hair cut, and that that 
would disqualify him from taking the part again in 
case the war should terminate and the play were re- 
sumed ; he answered, " Oh, in that case I could have a 
wig made, which would be more agreeable than wear- 
ing the long hair continually." Although he spoke 



* Joseph Mair played the part of Christ in 1870, in 1871 when the 
play was resumed, and in 1880. 

"I" At that tipae the railroad did not go as far as Murnau. 



THE PASSION PLAT. 219 

lightly, I do not think he meant it so, for the smile 
that accompanied his words was a very mournful one. 
He told us they had decided not to take down the 
theatre for the present, as they yet had hopes that 
towards the end of the summer they might be able to 
use it again. 

That a man taking such a prominent part in the 
play as he should get somewhat spoiled by all the 
flattery heaped upon him by over-susceptible people, 
especially of the gentle sex, is not to be wondered at. 
He was quite simple and open in his manners, yet he 
fully felt his importance. I liked the bearing of his 
companions better. He told us that when he got to 
the city his first business was to go to the court theatre 
to pay his respects to his '^ colleagues," and that then 
he would go to the commandant and report himself for 
military duty. 

He did not have to serve in the ranks, however, but 
was appointed a place as military scribe of some sort. 
I often saw him afterwards on the streets of Munich, 
still with his long hair and pointed beard. 

Joseph Mair was not a handsome man in the face ; 
his features were somewhat lumpish and he was broad 
at the cheek-bones, yet on the stage he had a certain 
resemblance to the pictures of Christ as painted by the 
old masters. His hair was darker than it is generally 
depicted. His figure (especially the lower limbs were 
remarkably fine) was well proportioned, and quite 
elegant. He had soft, dreamy eyes, and a habitually 
mild, melancholy expression of countenance. He had 
a clear, tender, and sympathetic voice with well-regu- 
lated modulation. 

One little incident connected with Oberammergau, 
and then I have done with the subject. 

It is curious how many things are taken for granted 
by people who do not look deeper than the surface for 
the causes of certain customs ; many accidental occur- 
rences are jotted down by travellers in their note-books 
as the peculiar but every-day practices of nations which 
are strangers to them. Books of travel, if not always 



220 SUGAR AND MUSTARD, 

interesting, are often amusing to the initiated from the 
number of queer things that are seriously written about 
foreign countries and about the customs of the in- 
habitants by amateur excursionists, who flatter them- 
selves that after a few weeks' experience gained in 
hotels and on the streets and in the family of whom 
they hire their rooms, they are perfectly acquainted 
with the national and social characteristics of the people 
they are sojourning with. 

Walking to Oberammergau with a friend just at the 
height of the season of the Passion play, and when the 
roads were full of vehicles of all kinds conveying thou- 
sands of eager visitors to the little village, we stopped, 
tired and thirsty, at an humble wayside inn and farm- 
house to rest and refresh ourselves. We thought some 
thick milk — bonny-clabber we call it in some parts of 
the United States — would cool us off and set us up for 
the rest of the hilly way, so we ordered some, with the 
usual accompaniment of sugar and cinnamon. 

The landlady, a good-humored soul, and a woman of 
penetration, who had heard us speaking English with 
each other, soon brought us each a broad earthen dish 
of deliciously cool milk, thick as a jelly and with a rich 
crust of cream on the top like a meerschaum just be- 
ginning to color. It was fresh from the cellar. She 
then brought us each a little saucer filled with crushed 
sugar, and another little saucer filled with — mustard. 
We expressed our astonishment at this and supposed it 
must be some mistake. " Oh, no, not at all ; the Eng- 
lish always eat thick milk with sugar and mustard," 
said the woman. " The other day there were a couple 
of English ladies here and they called for sugar and 
mustard, and ate it on their milk with great relish." 

My powers of reasoning did not desert me at such a 
moment. 

The German word for cinnamon, zimmt, and the 
German word for mustard, senf^ — the way it is pro- 
nounced in Bavaria, — sound very much alike. 

I can readily imagine that the English ladies in ques- 
tion in all honor called for sugar and cinnamon, but 
perhaps not speaking the word quite distinctly, it 



AN AMERICANISM, 221 

sounded like mustard. The landlady may have been a 
little surprised, at first, at this singular order, but then 
recollecting that "the English are crazy enough to do 
anything," as people here often say, she thought they 
really meant mustard, — so she brought them mustard. 
The English ladies, on their part, who wished to un- 
derstand the country thoroughly, and who acted on 
the principle that when in Eome one must do as the 
Eomans do, considered this a new and noteworthy ex- 
perience of their travels, and therefore ate the curious 
mixture with a determination and persistency that did 
honor to their British constitutions. 

I have not had the pleasure of seeing the published 
book of travels of these ladies, but I am as well satisfied 
that they have therein promulgated the fact that the 
Germans always eat thick milk with sugar and mustard 
as I am that the good old landlady believed the same 
thing of the English when she told us so. 



CHAPTEE XV. 



Difference between English and American — Lies mostly in the tone of 
the voice — Voices of American women — *' A bad workman quarrels 
with his tools" — School-girls* French — German coming into fashion — 
Clumsy German words — Faults of both languages equally balanced — 
Want of expressive English words — Want of genders to our nouns — 
The German diminutive — Germinant qualities of German language — 
Long words — French technical words — Use of titles — Full title to bo 
nsed in Reuss-Schleiz, etc. — Fellow from Arcadia learning four lan- 
guages — Hospital wanting pay for an American — Consul's answer to 
the letters — Liberality of our government and people — Collections in 
Munich for Chicago sufferers — United States pensioners abroad. 

Is this an Americanism? I suppose it is. A gentle- 
man from Ohio, quite well educated, as it seemed to 
me, in the course of conversation which turned on art 
and on the works of the old masters said, " Well, at any 
rate I cannot enthuse for such objects." 

A lady and a gentleman who came to the office on 

19* 



222 VOICES OF AMERICAN WOMEN. 

business fell into a low conversation with each other 
while I was doing some writing for them. I happened 
to overhear the lady say to her companion, " He talks 
like an Englishman," — meaning me. I do not know 
whether it was intended as a compliment or otherwise. 

When people call attention to the difference of our 
manner of speaking from that of the English, I think 
they (without being quite clear about it) lay more 
weight upon our pronunciation and enunciation, and 
the use of slang phrases, than on the tone of the voice, 
which, it appears to me, really constitutes the essential 
difference. As far as slang goes, the English have just 
as much of it as we have ; but slang should be avoided 
in all good conversation. It is not alone that it is 
always coarse, but it also denotes a feebleness in the 
expressing of ideas. As regards pronunciation, there 
is in many cases no established rule, and numbers of 
words are really left to the taste of the speaker in pro- 
nouncing them. There are some vowel sounds which 
are less agreeable to the ear than others, and among 
these is the broad, long i, and I think it is as well to 
avoid it in all words where it is admissible to do so. It 
certainly sounds very harsh when people persist in 
saying piesmna and genui^^m^ and Ztalien, as many of 
our folks do. But all these things are less disturbing 
in reality to the Englishman who finds fault with us 
than the high pitch to which we raise our voices, — 
especially our women. Whether that comes from our 
climate, or from habit, or from want of proper training, 
or from any other cause, I leave the learned to decide. 
Living for a long time abroad, this peculiarity does cer- 
tainly strike one more than when one is accustomed to 
hearing it on all sides at home. 

When people approached my door, in conversation 
with each other, — even before I could distinguish the 
words that were spoken, — even before I could tell 
whether it were English or German that they were 
speaking, — that strident voice which seems to be manu- 
factured and produced somewhere between the eye- 
teeth and the nostrils, and forced through a syringe 



GERMAN COMING INTO FASHION. 223 

instead of flowing in rounded tones from the grand 
bellows of the lungs, warned me that it was the 
American female that was coming. 

"A bad workman quarrels with his toolsJ^ 

The German language is only beginning to come into 
fashion with us as an accomplishment. ^ 

No school-girl thinks her education finished until a 
smattering of French has been driven into her. She 
learns the phrase-book through, and her conversations 
with the washerwoman, the chambermaid, the dress- 
maker, the physician, and the green-grocer go pretty 
glibly when her master (mostly some snuffy French- 
man with a genealogy reaching back to a count, at 
least) complacently takes upon himself to personate, 
for the time being, each of the above characters ; but 
when she gets to Paris and hears the oily talk of the 
real French washerwoman and the real French cham- 
bermaid, the ditto dressmaker and physician and 
green-grocer, she finds that she is all abroad, and she 
is astonished to find that they neither say nor answer 
what is set down for them in the phrase-book, and that, 
besides, the talk has quite a different sound, and that 
she can't make out where one word begins and another 
ends. Her French is first rate in America, but it don't 
seem to hold together in Paris. After all, for showing- 
oif purposes, America is a better field for her than 
France, and by putting a few volumes of Kacine and 
Moliere and Voltaire, and Eugene Sue and Dumas, 
and Emil Zola in the bookcase, and by leaving them 
carelessly opened on the centre-table, she can prove to 
her own satisfaction and to the env}^ of those who 
haven't, that she has mastered the French language. 

Fashion now demands that she shall master the 
German in the same wa}' also. Perhaps this budding 
fashion has been dragged in by the heeU in the form 
of the cotillon which has with us received the name 
of the " German." But the study of the German lan- 
guage has not yet taken such root with us as that of 
the French, and we still have several millions of people 



224 DEFICIENCIES OF OUR LANGUAGE, 

to whom it is yet quite strange, and those who have 
already attacked the language are undecided whether 
it is "the thing" to enjoy it or not. In this incipient 
stage it is a most common thing (and it is considered a 
witty thing) for people on first coming to Germany to 
point out the defects of the language, and they deem 
it funny to call attention to the fact that the Germans 
call a thimble a *' finger-hat ;'' a glove, a " hand-shoe ;" 
a pin, a "stick-needle;" a sweetheart, a "love-haver;" 
a blow, an " ear-fig ;" a corn, a " chicken eye ;" and they 
love to point out what short and simple words we have 
for everything. 

But without going into any philological dissertation 
on the peculiar merits of either language, I believe the 
deficiencies of both (for we are naturally fond of finding 
fault) are about equally balanced. In regard to our 
own language as compared with the German, it would 
certainly be an embellishment if we had a real declen- 
sion of the nouns, adjectives, and articles, instead of 
having to glue the sense together with prepositions. 
Our verbs are rich in the different forms of certain 
tenses, but our nouns, pronouns, and adjectives are very 
lame and limping from the want of a dative case. 

In real, understandable, Saxon words for many con- 
ceptions, we are sadly deficient. In teaching the young 
idea how to shoot, it stumbles at the very first words 
that are presented to it. After getting through our 
complicated and ruleless spelling, the next target set 
up for it is arithmetic, and its rings are called addition, 
subtraction, multiplication, and division, while the 
bull's-eye is fractions. But how is a child to get an 
idea of the meanings of these terms? Is there any 
simple word, tangible to their young perceptions, that 
conveys a clear picture of what all these hard words 
are about? The German language, besides having all 
the above technical terms for older understandings, has 
real German words for them all, which express "teach- 
ing of counting," " putting together," " taking away," 
"making more," "separating," and "breaking," respec- 
tively. 

When the young idea comes to grammar it gets still 



WANT OF EXPRESSIVE ENGLISH WORDS, 225 

more bewildered in the maze of nouns, pronouns, verbs, 
adverbs, adjectives, articles, prepositions, interjections, and 
conjunctions, infinitive, indicative, subjunctive, and impera- 
tive moods, conjunctions, declensions, auxiliaries, and de- 
fectives, not one of which expresses to the young idea 
an obvious meaning. Here the German language 
comes in with crisp words of its own, — and so, all 
through, there is a corresponding original word for 
every foreign one that is introduced into the language. 

The German, on embarking in the practice of the 
English language, feels the want of a great many nice- 
ties which distinguish his own. In the first place, if 
only speaking of his friend or his cousin, he finds it 
embarrassing that, in order not to be misunderstood, 
he has to refer to them as his male friend or his female 
friend, his male cousin or his female cousin, or else he 
has to prop up his meaning by clumsily dragging in an 
explanatory pronoun. Imagine, my gentle reader or 
my stern reader, the feelings of a foreigner (you don't 
know, now, whether I mean a he-foreigner or a she- 
foreigner) on hearing, perhaps, at an evening party 
or in the family circle, some lady relate how she had 
just returned from Europe with a neighbor to whom 
she was very much attached, and that they occupied 
the same state-room all the way, and what fun they 
had with each other ; or, some gentleman giving his 
experiences of a stroll in the country with his cousin, 
and how, coming to a secluded spot on the borders of 
a well-sheltered stream, out of sight of every one, they 
undressed themselves and went in to bathe together. 
In his language there could be no misapprehension in 
hearing such statements, but in ours, the guileless 
stranger (unless he keeps a sharp look-out for the ex- 
planatory pronouns) is left to wonder, in such cases, 
whether it is our grammar or our morals that is at 
fault. 

To be sure, we have the sexual distinctions between 
kings and queens, emperors and empresses, princes and 
princesses, counts and countesses, barons and baron- 
esses, but these are just the people wo have the least 
use for in our blessed country. In the narration of in- 

P 



226 THE GERMAN DIMINUTIVE. 

tiraate relations with our friends, cousins, and neighbors, 
there is room for a good deal of presumptive specula- 
tion on the part of the foreign listener. In the most 
loving connections of life we are singularly in want of 
words. We have no single word for brothers and 
sisters together, and we have no endearing, single 
word for " mother-in-law." The few masculines and 
feminines which we have for animals are not used 
with full freedom, and prudish people think it quite 
abominable to discriminate between the genders of 
gome of our most favored pets, while, as for saying 
cock-pigeon and hen-pigeon, cock-sparrow and hen- 
sparrow, it is simply shocking, and the gentleman of 
the domestic feline pet is dignified with a Christian 
name to designate his sex in order to get rid of the 
stilted form of calling him a he, 

A great charm of the German language is the con- 
tinual use of the diminutive in familiar or affectionate 
conversation. There is not a noun to which the dimi- 
nutive cannot be applied. The termination varies in 
different parts of Germany. In Bavaria, the soft, gut- 
tural erl gives a peculiar cadence to the word. When 
a person uses the diminutive, you know that he has 
affection for the person addressed or for the thing 
spoken of. It is not alone to children that this form is 
used, and it must not in any manner be considered 
analogous to our celebrated baby-talk, in which we 
smash up our language for our infants, and then (after- 
wards) set them to work, in their tender childhood's 
years, to hunt together the broken pieces, and to com- 
mence learning to speak anew, worrying at them to 
discard the pronunciation they have heard from others, 
when addressing them, from their very birth, and 
driving at them to speak properly, and in quite a dif- 
ferent manner to that in which their young tongues 
have been accustomed to imitate the sounds whicJi 
have been addressed to them by the ^' tweet ittle 
baby's own bessed mudder." 

The German diminutive is the " my dear fellow" of 
the language ; it links you lovingly with the person or 
the object. 



GERMAN COMPOUND WORDS. 227 

The germinant qualities of the German language are 
such as are possessed by scarcely any other. In Eng- 
lish we cannot make two or more words grow into one. 
We cannot inoculate one word with another so that 
healthy sprouts spring from the parent stem, bearing 
improved fruit. The English language is stiff and 
stubborn ; like the oak and the reed in the fable, it 
won't bend, but it is easily broken. The number of 
words you can hitch on to each other, in German, 
making one word, yet making sense too, is almost un- 
limited. Take, for instance, the word " localdampfschiff- 
fahrtsactiengesellschaft." Now, that seems funny to 
us. It isn't so to the German ; he takes it all in good 
part. The word is in itself compound, but in its sense 
it is concrete. We make jokes of such words when we 
see them, and people who are so "very funny and 
original" make literal translations of them in their let- 
ters home to their friends or to country newspapers. 
Their country cousins laugh at them a good deal. And 
yet some of these words are shorter than any we can 
show for them. I give only the single instance of 
'' Thierschutzverein," which is the same as " Society for 
the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals." 

Here is another German word quite in common use 
in business, " Malzaufschlagruechverguetungsbetraege" 
— "amounts of recompensation for taxes on malt." 
Here another sample, " Hottentottenpotentatentanten- 
attentat," which means " an attempt at assassination 
of the aunt of a Hottentot potentate ;" and here is an- 
other, which is on the sign of the offices of a steamboat 
company in Lucerne : " Vierwaldstaetterseeschrauben- 
dampferactienconcurrenzgesellschaftsbureaux." Now, 
that word contains just seventy-one letters, and com- 
prises all the letters of the alphabet with the excep- 
tion of j, q, and y. That is really food for a smile. 

In technical words, especially in chemistry, the sci- 
entific gentlemen of other countries are not much be- 
hindhand. We have " diparatolyldidiazophenilur," 
" orthomonitrodiphenyldiacetylen," and " ethylenoto- 
tramethyldiphenylphosphonium." I don't know what 
they mean, and don't care; but they wore published in 



228 RESOUNDING TITLES. 

an article in a late number of the Paris " Scientific 
Eeview." 

In the use of titles, as in the names of things, the 
Germans are just as tenacious in making them express 
all the functions of the person who bears them. I once 
saw in one of the daily papers the announcement of the 
death of Miss So and so, " Koeniglicherhoftheaterlam- 
penauznendersassistententochter," — " royal court the- 
atre lamplighter's assistant's daughter." 

In the year 1844, during the reign of Henry the 
Seventy-second of Eeuss-Schleiz-Greiz-Lobenstein- 
Ebersdorf, there was issued a sovereign order that 
every person in the land should be addressed by his 
full title. A certain Hans Buetow had to appear at 
court on a petty charge, and the sergeant called on him 
by name to stand forth. The prisoner appeared to 
take no notice of the summons. On being repeatedly 
called on, and giving no answer, the judge, in despera- 
tion, shouted out, "Are you deaf?" "No," said the 
culprit, " but I demand to be called by my full title." 
" Well, what is your title, then ?" " I am ^ provision- 
ally appointed Eeuss-Schleiz-Greiz-Lobenstein-Ebers- 
dorfer, assistant adjunct of the highway-cleaning de- 
partment,' and if you leave out a syllable of my true 
title you are liable to pay a fine of one thaler, accord- 
ing to the most supreme command of his Highness the 
Prince of Eeuss-Schleiz-Greiz-Lobenstein-Ebersdorf." 

But this is enough for one lesson. 

There was a Western chap, fresh from the budding 
groves of Arcadia (wherever that may be), who came 
to Munich, and brought all his hair with him. I mean, 
he hadn't left any of it with any barbers on the way. 
The length of his limbs was in proportion to the length 
of his locks, but his tailor hadn't kept pace with his 
growth, and his lower extremities looked like a race 
between legs and trousers, in which legs always won. 
He was young and ardent, and had great plans for the 
future. His confidence in himself was something to 
admire. His intention was to stay one year in Germany 



LEARNING FOUR LANGUAGES, 229 

to learn German perfectly ; twelve calendar months in 
Paris were to set him up au fait in French ; the next 
year festive Italy was to receive him, and it was his 
aspiration, and his intention too, to perfect himself 
there in the '^lingua Toscana in bocca Bomana.'' The 
last year was to be devoted to Spain and the Spanish, 
and he was then going to return home to his native 
grove and open an academy for young ladies, and teach 
them the four principal modern languages of Continen- 
tal Europe. He must have had a talent for languages. 
The frisky way in which he played with his own Ar- 
cadian tongue was sublime. He always spoke of mo- 
lasses in the plural. Once, when he was very ill, he 
had an uncontrollable desire for some of that sweet, 
luscious syrup that would remind him of home and of 
his boyhood. It was procured for him. I heard him 
call out from his bed into the next room where his at- 
tendant friend sat, " Charley, whar\s those molasses?" 
His progress with the German language was not as 
rapid as he had expected. He lingered on in Munich 
for about three 3'ears, he got the fever, he got in debt, 
and he got so far in the language that he was able to 
call for a glass of beer unassisted, and at last he got 
himself off, — he disappeared. I do not know what ever 
became of him, but I am inclined to think that the 
Arcadian young ladies are still uninstructed in the four 
modern languages of Continental Europe. 

On several occasions the director of one of the hos- 
pitals in Southern Bavaria wrote to the consulate say- 
ing that it had been obliged to take care of an Ameri- 
can who had become ill, or met with an accident there, 
that the patient had no money to pay for his admis- 
sion and treatment, and that, therefore, he sent the bill 
to the consulate. To those very cool demands I sent a 
warm answer, pointing out that where the Bavarian 
government had one poor sick American to take care 
of we had thousands and thousands of sick and desti- 
tute Germans thrust upon us^ and that wo provided for 
them in our hospitals without considering as to their 
nationality ; and in my letter I could not do better than 

20 



230 UNITED STATES PENSIONERS ABROAD, 

to quote the powerful and convincing arguments of one 
of our ministers to Switzerland, the Hon. Theodore S. 
Fay, who once wrote to the Swiss government to ex- 
postulate on a similar occasion. 

But the liberality of our government, of our State 
and municipal institutions, and of our citizens is well 
known and appreciated and extolled abroad. Every- 
body knows with what lavish hand we have helped 
the suffering people of all lands when terrible misfor- 
tunes have befallen them. We know, on the occasion 
of the inundations in Germany and Austria some years 
ago, what sums we sent. 

At the time of the Chicago fire about fifteen hundred 
florins were raised in Munich among the Germans for 
the sufferers. 

The United States does not do things by halves. It 
is not alone that we are liberal, but there is no narrow- 
ness in our charity nor in our rewards. For instance, 
with our pensions, it is always a matter of surprise 
here that those who are entitled to a pension enjoy it 
just the same whether they are living in the United 
States or abroad. There are some twenty or twenty- 
five United States pensioners living in Bavaria, who 
come regularly to the consulate each quarter to have 
their signatures to their vouchers verified, and whose 
money is then sent out to them. One poor woman 
who had lost a son in our war, after some difficulty in 
proving to the satisfaction of the pension bureau that 
she had been, in part, dependent on her son for support, 
was granted a pension, and was paid for four outstand- 
ing years. Her letter of thanks and her expressions 
of reverence for the country that granted such a boon 
to a foreigner were very touching. 



rOVNO AMERICANS ABROAD. 231 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Bows among young Americans abroad — Good character of Americans in 
Munich — Spree : " You are one jackass" — Row with soldiers ; pouring 
beer on them — Strangers aggrieved by decision of courts — King Lud- 
wig the Second — Scandals^ — Eccentric ways and doings — King a 
musical enthusiast — Duties of present kings — Cost of keeping a king 
— Not showing himself to the public — King's strict education — In- 
fluence of Wagner's operas — The public to keep out of the king's way 
— Trap-door arrangement with dining-table — Counsellor reading be- 
hind a screen — Mr. Maynard, " will I see the king?" — The king in the 
theatre — Separate performances — Row at the Odeon ; concert — Fire 
apparatus at theatre — Real rain — His veneration of Louis XV. — Copy 
of Versailles — Coming to and leaving Munich at night — The winter 
garden — Opera singer falling into the lake — Fond of riding in his 
youth — The wild horses of Macbeth — In the riding-school — Hunting- 
lodges in the mountains — Princely chambers on the mountain pass — 
Mimic stage — Moon out of order — Are all these things true ? — Character 
of the king. 

Where so many young men — mostly students — are 
collected in a foreign city, it is quite natural that they 
sometimes fall into trouble. At Munich such cases 
were never of a serious character, and I am proud to 
say that among the great number of young Americans 
who sojourned in the city during my long stay there, 
there was not one really disreputable character that I 
know of. As a class they were well behaved, earnest 
in their occupations, studious, and peaceable. Quarrels 
among themselves were very rare, and they harmonized 
with the many foreign elements with which they were 
brought into association throughout. That now and 
then, in the hilarity of some festive occasion, their 
mirth had a loudness which was incompatible with the 
views of the police in the matter, is easily to bo con- 
doned. 

On the adjournment of a New- Year's gathering, a 
young American with a couple of his friends — when 
the night had b}' some hours given place to the next 
(lay, although still dark, and when most people prefer 
to lie in quiet slumber — carried their merriment into 



232 YOUNG AMERICANS ABROAD, 

the street with them. A couple of policemen attracted 
by the noise went up to them and remonstrated with 
them and ordered them to be more quiet, but, finding 
their words had not the expected subduing effect, they 
arrested them and attempted to take them to the sta- 
tion-house. But the young people were too much for 
them ; they quickly swung themselves loose and started 
off on a run, and invited the police-ofiicers to follow 
them and catch them. The guardians of the peace at- 
tempted to comply with their wishes, but could only 
carry out the first part of the invitation. They were 
led on to a very complicated chase, for the young men 
made sport of them, and urged them to come and take 
them, and they allowed the officers to get quite close to 
them, and then by sharp doubling they evaded their 
grasp. It was only on a reinforcement of officers 
coming round a corner that the fugitives were caught 
and were then marched off to the police-oflSce. On ar- 
riving there, the young American gave further vent to 
his jocoseness by loudly hammering at the door and de- 
manding to be admitted, for he wanted to prove to his 
captors that he went there of his own accord and was 
going to make himself at home there. On being taken 
into the room of the officer on duty, a big, snuffy fellow 
with a moustache like a boot-brush and an apoplectic 
neck, and on the two original policemen making their 
charge, the occurrence was written down by an elderly 
secretary in spectacles. When the gentleman was 
asked if he had anything to say for himself, he politely 
explained that he was rather deficient in his German 
and only had a few words at his command ; but he 
rather astonished them with the little he did know. 
Holding up his left hand with the fingers stretched 
apart, he looked first at the original gens d'arme, and 
doubling down his little finger with the forefinger of 
his right hand, he said, slowly, " You are one jackass ;" 
then eying the second and turning down the next finii;er 
in the same way, he said, "You are one jackass." The 
next finger was devoted to the secretary, to whom he 
said, " You are one jackass," and as he turned down the 
last finger he smiled pleasantly at the pompous old offi- 



YOUNG AMERICANS ABROAD. 233 

cer behind the railing and said, " And you are one jack- 
ass, — makes four jackas&es." Such conduct was en- 
tirely too aggravating. He was locked up for what 
yet remained of the night, or rather, morning, and 
when the usual hour for the police trial of the cases 
came on, he was sentenced to a fine of a few marks or 
four days' arrest, — " One day for each jackass," as he 
afterwards said. 

A party of art students were having a jolly time at a 
little tavern in the neighborhood of the city. They 
were in a room in the second story and were amusing 
themselves by singing student songs, mixed, perhaps, 
with " nigger." One of the party wanting some fresh 
beer, poured the remainder which was in his mug out 
of the window. It happened that a number of soldiers 
were sitting below, on a bench against the wall, and as 
the beer descended on their Sunday uniforms, they sup- 
posed it was purposely meant for their reception, but 
they had great objections to taking it outwardly. 
They rushed up to the room, and being double in num- 
bers to those in possession of it, they soon cleared the 
latter out of it and down-stairs, hurting some of them 
considerably. 

The students complained that they had been grossly 
insulted and maltreated by the soldiers, without having 
given them an}^ cause for provocation. When the affair 
came to be investigated, it turned out that one of the 
Americans (upon one of the soldiers coming up to him 
to remonstrate with them for having beer thrown upon 
him and his companions, and asking if it were done in- 
tentionally) drew out his revolver as a suitable apology, 
but fortunately did not fire it off, as it was knocked out 
of his hand ; another pulled out a dirk. There ap- 
peared to be a little wrong on both sides. The matter 
was quietly settled, I believe, to the satisfaction of all 
parties. 

This affair happened before my time, and I have the 
particulars only on hearsay. 

I can think of no other rows (unless of the very 
slightest kind) that occurred. 

20^^ 



234 KING LUDWIO THE SECOND, 

Strangers who are aggrieved by the decisions of 
courts of law and other courts against them, always 
think it the consul's business to right them against 
such decision, and they complain that the ways of the 
law in Europe are very different from the ways of the 
law at home. It is hard to make such people under- 
stand that only in case they can bring proof that they 
were treated differently from natives by the courts on 
account of being foreigne'l's, any intervention on the part 
of our officers can take place. 

It would be but an ungraceful act on the part of one 
who had been officially set up in a foreign country, 
fortified with the recommendations of the President to 
the kind attentions of the ruler of that foreign country, 
— introduced as it were to the house of a friend of one's 
friend, — to abuse the hospitality of one from whom we 
had received a hearty welcome, and to turn round, as 
soon as we had left his house, and to relate for the 
amusement of others the eccentric sayings and doings 
of our host. 

I went to Munich bearing the compliments of the 
head of our nation to the head of the Bavarian king- 
dom. In the consular commission, the President prays 
His Majesty the King of Bavaria to "afford all proper 
countenance and assistance" to the consul, and the 
President offers '^ to do the same for all those who shall 
in like manner be recommended to him by His said 
Majesty." 

It would be a breach of courtesy, as well towards my 
own country as towards the one in which I sojourned, 
were I to drag forward in these pages the string of 
malicious scandals — alwa3^s attaching themselves to the 
person or the court of a king — which, in the case of the 
King of Bavaria, have had more than usual nourish- 
ment from the circumstances of his romandc disposi- 
tion and the impenetrable seclusion of his life.* 



* I will only refer to one circumstance in this connection, because 
gome newspaper writer incidentally brought the consul into his narrative. 
In an article published in 1872 in some of our Western papers, and copied 
into those of other cities which were short of news, the adventures of a 



A MUSICAL ENTHUSIAST. 235 

But of some of the eccentric ways and doings of the 
King of Bavaria there is really no reason for keeping 
quiet, seeing they have been published in almost all 
newspapers outside of Bavaria. Even Bavarians them- 
selves, and the most loyal subjects of His Majesty, relate 
quite openly many queer things about him. People 
who are near his person, and those holding office under 
him, people who are more or less distantly employed in 
his service, are equally communicative on the subject. 
These stories have mostly found their way into all our 
newspapers. How often does one read paragraphs 
headed " Royal Eccentricities'' or " Vagaries of the 
King of Bavaria," — telling of some of his freaks or 
of the curious machinery introduced into his many 
palaces. His very intimate, former relations with 
Kichard Wagner, and the manner in which they were 
suddenly broken off, are known to all the world. Of 
the perpetual moonlight in his bed-chamber at his 
castle of Berg, on the Lake of Starnberg, most people 
have read, and that he has private performances at 
the royal opera-house and the royal residence theatre, 
where he is the sole spectator, is also well known. 

The king is a musical enthusiast, so the people say, 
— an enthusiast of the music of the future. His prac- 
tical ideas too, are, perhaps, more adopted to the future 
than to the present, or, on the other hand, if we go 
back two or three hundred years we shall find him 
more in sympathy with those monarchs who believed 
in the right divine to do just as they pleased, without 
taking common mortals into consideration at all. At 
the present day kings generally keep their crowns 
under glass cases, and they are oftener seen off their 
heads than on them, and in consequence of wearing 
stove-pipe hats instead pf golden diadems, kings are 



certain Mrs. Fanny Jordan, in her determination to gain the affections 
of the king, are given in detail, headed with the largest and fattrst 
capitals. It was then stated that she had letters of introdiu'tion to the 
consul, which she presented to that functionary, and that by moans of 
them she gained access to the highest aristocratic circles. It is scarcely 
necessary to say that the whole statement is entirely false; 1 never saw 
the person, and thus know nothing of such letters. 



236 DUTIES OF PRESENT KINGS, 

reminded that they sometimes have to work too, just 
like other people. Almost all the present monarchs of 
Europe are determined to have something to show in 
the way of performance on their part for the money 
the people pay them, and they are desirous to prove 
that their office is not a sinecure. The bluff old Ger- 
man emperor is a man who goes in for doing his duty 
thoroughly. He is as hard a worker as any man in 
the realm, and the good example he sets is not without 
its influence on his royal colleagues — with certain 
exceptions. 

The old superstition about kings is, that they 
know perfectly well what they have got to do and 
what they haven't got to do, and that it is no- 
body's business to remind them of either the one or 
the other. There are still some kings who reign by 
divine right who stick to this theory, and the improve- 
ments of the nineteenth century do not seem to have 
affected the old-fashioned machinery of their minds in 
this respect. People who have to pay for a king know 
very well that they can't expect to be invited to the 
palace very often, even to lunch, nor can the king be 
expected to visit all his subjects regularly; the only 
chances, then, that the general public has of seeing 
royalty is in the streets, or at a review, or at the 
theatre, or at a railway station, or at church. But 
people are glad even for such glimpses of their beloved 
monarch, and it is as little as a sovereign can do to 
grant the populace this boon in return for the mag- 
nificence and comfort in which he is permitted to live, 
and which every man, woman, and child contributes 
to.* In short, the people want the king to show him- 
self. It has been thus from time immemorial, and it 
will probably be so as long as kings exist. But in no 
other country is there so much apparent loj'alty as in 

♦In Bavaria, each man, woman, and child of its 5,284,778 inhabiting 
has to pay one mark (about twenty-five cents) for the support of the 
king and other members of the royal family, the king receiving a salary 
of 4,231,014 marks, — just a million of dollars. In the United States each 
person pays less than one-tenth of a cent for the support of our Pres- 
ident, so that each true Bavarian pays two hundred and fifty times as 
much for keeping up royalty as we for keeping up republicanism. 



THE KINGS OF BAVARIA. 237 

Bavaria. The kinoes of Bavaria have been accustomed 
to mingle with their people. The first king of Bavaria, 
Maximilian Joseph, was familiarly called ''Papa Max" 
because he was really so fatherly towards his subjects. 
He was daily seen among them ; he took an interest 
in all their doings. His son, Ludwig the First, was 
just as popular; he was on familiar terms with all 
classes, and if he loved one class more than another, it 
was the artists, — who were his chosen people. He 
walked or drove out everyday, he attended the theatre 
or the concert nearly every evening, and when carnival 
came, the officers, or the artists, or the students, or 
even the merchants did not consider their balls com- 
plete unless the king came for an hour or two to share 
their enjoyment. 

King Maximilian, son of the former and father of 
the present king, though a much more serious man 
than old Ludwig, was not less sociable. He took his 
almost daily walk in the city, attended only by his 
adjutant, — often entirely alone. But even in plain 
citizen dress (he only wore uniform on rare occasions) 
he was known to everybody; every child knew him, 
and his hat was certainly more in his hand than on his 
head during all his walks and all his drives. He was 
very simple in his habits and in his mode of life; his 
tastes were more literary and scientific than otherwise, 
and he was not a seeker after pleasure, yet he con- 
sidered it part of his duty as king to attend public en- 
tertainments with the queen at his side; he wanted 
every one of his subjects to have a chance of seeing 
him, — and besides, he was fond of seeing his people. 

It comes hard, therefore, to the Bavarians when they 
all at once get a king who doesn't show himself King 
Maximilian died suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, and 
liis young son Louis, a handsome, tall stripling with 
waving hair and melancholy eyes, when he followed 
his father's coffin with faltering steps, was already a 
king. He was only eighteen years old, and the crown 
tell upon him before he had seen anything of the great 
outside life beyond the palace nursery walls. Ho had 
no sisters, and only one brother, a boy some three years 



238 A ROVAL HERMIT. 

younger than himself. These princes had been brought 
up under the strictest discipline. They had had no 
freedom whatever; great care was taken in their edu- 
cation to keep them from all contact with evil, and 
from a knowledge of the evil ways of the world. They 
had to study hard, and incessantly, and, that their 
brains might remain clear, they were kept on such 
plain and low diet that as young children they often 
begged of their governess (a lady who told me the cir- 
cumstance herself) a piece of bread and cheese, — 
because they were hungry. It is not surprising, there- 
fore, that such a young man as the crown prince on 
suddenly becoming not only his own master, but the 
master of nearly five millions of people, should strike 
out into eccentricities. But these did not take the 
form of wildness. He did not sow his wild oats in 
the gilded haunts and among the gay companions that 
are to be found in every capital, nor in the dazzling 
blaze of the court. On the contrary, he very soon 
developed into a royal hermit. After the first year or 
so of his reign he was seldom in his capital, but sought 
refuge in his palaces in the country. There were too 
few of these for him, and he commenced building new 
ones, on a scale of the most lavish magnificence, in the 
most romantic parts of his kingdom ; but in far-away 
and almost inaccessible places. The first opera of 
Wagner's he ever saw was "Lohengrin," and the mys- 
terious appearance of the Knight of the Holy Gnail, on 
his errand of love and justice, his short, rapturous 
hours in the arms of his earthly bride, and his mys- 
terious disappearance and return to the consecrated 
halls of his fathers in unknown lands, were not without 
effect on the mind of the poetically inclined youth, 
and led him to plan the erection of the marvellous and 
imposing castle of Hohenschwangan — high up in the 
clouds. 

He is now never more than two or three weeks 
during the whole year in the city, and then keeps shut 
up within his palace walls, or, at most, drives out in a 
closed carriage, sitting back and hiding behind the cur- 
tains so that he may not be seen. He would like best 



" COURT NEWS.'' 239 

to have the city emptied of its inhabitants when he 
goes out. 

Under the head of " Court news" the Munich papers 
of March, 1882, published the following paragraph : 
**His Majesty the King takes his usual daily drives to 
the English Garden between five and half-past five 
o'clock in the afternoon. At a considerable distance 
below the lake His Majesty leaves the carriage to take 
half an hour's walk. As His Majesty does not wish to 
be in any way disturbed, mounted policemen form a 
cordon of several hundred paces around him to keep 
all persons out of sight of His Majesty." That notice 
was also meant to serve as a warning. When he is in 
the country, nearly all the year round, he is almost 
entirely alone, with only his servants about him, and 
he would like to dispense with even these if it were 
alwaj^s possible. 

At one of his castles he has a trap-door arrangement 
like that employed on the stage of a theatre. He enters 
his dining-room alone, and locks the door after him. A 
table is set for dinner containing the first course. When 
His Majesty has partaken of this he touches a spring, and 
the table, with all upon it, descends through the floor. 
His Majesty, as it were, sits at the edge of a deep 
abyss, but not long, for soon the table (another table) 
rises again, bringing up with it the circular piece of 
floor, thus making all level again, and lo! the table is 
spread with the second course, and so the thing goes 
on, course for course until the dinner is at last finished. 
His Majesty is very fond of the delicacies of the table. 
Next to music and solitude he likes good eating, it is 
said. 

The king, by thus humoring his humors, has got to 
be quite shy of all mankind, and especially of all woman- 
kind. He does not like to have people near him ; ho 
wants every one to keep out of his road. He is quite 
unapproachable except to some favored members of the 
family, and then only when he is in the mood for see- 
ing them. Even those officers he has of necessity to 
confer with, he likes to have out of sight. His privy 
councillor, who has to read to him the reports of the 



240 THE KINO AND THE THEATRE. 

cabinet ministers, is obliged to stand behind a screen 
whilst the king sits on the other side and verbally 
makes his comments, and gives his answers and in- 
structions. On the occasion of a long reading of this 
kind, the functionary behind the screen probably got 
very tired of standing, and, without making any pause 
in his delivery, gradually sank down into a chair, 
thinking no harm could be done, as neither the king 
nor anybody else could possibly see him. The king 
had sharp ears. He probably distinguished that the 
voice was not on the same level as at the beginning. 
He glanced round the screen. The privy councillor's 
occupation was gone from that hour. 

This peculiarity of the king — his not allowing any 
one to get a sight of him — is so universally known, 
that I was quite amused once by the freshness of one 
of our ministers in alluding to him. When the late 
Horace Maynard was appointed minister to Turkey, I 
called on him at his hotel in Munich, as he was passing 
through. He asked me what there was in the city 
worth seeing. I gave him a list of all the sights, and 
told him, among other things, he ought not to neglect 
seeing the palace. He asked me what there was to be 
seen there. I told him, — sumptuous apartments, golden 
statues, mosaic floors, modern paintings, frescos, gal- 
lery of beauties, etc. Then he turned to me, and said, 
with childlike simplicity, " Then I suppose I'll see the 
king there too, if I go there ?" as if the king were lying 
around loose. I told him no, I was afraid not ; so he 
thought it was not worth while going there. 

His Majesty is fond of the stage, and especially of 
Wagner's operas. At first he went verj^ often to the 
theatre, and the people were always unaffectedly glad 
when he honored the house with his presence, notwith- 
standing his sitting half hidden in the royal court box 
opposite the stage, whereas all the other kings had 
used that only on great state occasions, and had always 
preferred occupying their private proscenium-boxes in 
full sight of the audience. In the course of a very few 
years, however, he found that all he wanted was to 
have people on the stage, but not in the boxes around 



THE KING AND THE THEATRE. 241 

him, and above him, and below him, and he began to 
have private performances for himself alone. There 
was not a soul but himself in the vast auditorium. The 
players played to a beggarly account of empty boxes, 
— all but one, — but that was filled with majesty, and 
majesty was enough to fill the whole theatre. These 
performances mostly took place in the daytime, but it 
was no unfrequent thing that after a play or an opera 
had been given at night, and the audience had left the 
building, it was commenced anew, or another piece 
given which lasted till two or three o'clock in the 
morning. Woe then to any employe, any usher who 
happened to show himself in the body of the theatre. 
It is related that on one such occasion the General In- 
tendant, — as he is called, — that is, the royal head man- 
ager of the royal theatres, was in his own seat near the 
stage, fully concealed, as he supposed, by the little green 
curtains of his darkened box. He merely sat there to 
see that everything went on right. But the king got 
a sight of him* By some mysterious sign given to one 
of the officers of the royal household, who had to wait 
in the anteroom adjoining the king's loge, the luckless 
head manager was ordered out, and for several weeks 
afterwards he trembled in his boots for fear of getting 
his dismissal.* 

Not only the performers, vocal, dramatic, and or- 
chestral (who, it is said, are not at all brilliantly recom- 
pensed for this extra work), have to suffer, but the 
public, too, is sometimes put to annoyance, not to say 
to real loss, in consequence of these separate perform- 
ances. Some four years ago Liszt's oratorio of " Saint 
Elizabeth" was given at the royal Odeon by the or- 
chestra and singers of the royal opera. The beginning 

* Even at Oberammergau, in 1870, a separate performance of the 
whole play was given for the king. In I88i a separate performanco of 
" Parsifal," which as yet has been nowhere given except at Hayrruth, 
took place at the royal opera-house at Munich. The scenery and the 
costumes were brought from Bayreuth, and the world-renowned singers 
who took the parts theie were secured, charging roundly for their 
Bervices. A couple of other operas were porforuicd by the same com- 
pany before the king alone. It is said that each of these representations 
cost forty thousand marks, — nearly ton thousand dollars. 
L 7 21 



242 AN ASTOUNDED AUDIENCE, 

was announced in all the papers and on all the bills at 
seven o'clock. Fancy the consternation of the assem- 
bling public in the cloak-room between half-past six and 
seven to hear that the concert had already commenced. 
But that was not the worst of it, for the doors of the 
concert-room were closed, and according to the rules 
of the house nobody could be allowed to go in to dis- 
turb the others until the first part of the oratorio was 
over. The crowd became denser in the anterooms; ex- 
postulations and threats were all in vain : the doors 
were barred against them. Some then attempted to 
have their money refunded them, but it was with the 
greatest difiiculty they could accomplish even that. 
In almost any other city in the world the deluded pub- 
lic would have forced its way into the concert-room, but 
the Munich people, though giving vent to their rage in 
vehement words, remained pretty passive, and waited 
till the first part of the concert was over, and they were 
then allowed to take their seats. 

It came out afterwards that the king had, at the 
last moment, set his heart on hearing Weber's opera of 
"Oberon" that night, all by himself, and as the singers 
and musicians who performed in the opera were the 
same who performed at the concert, the hour of com- 
mencing the latter had to be suddenly changed in order 
to make the time come out right, and to give the 
performers a few moments of breathing. Of course 
the devoted head of the manager of the royal opera 
had to receive all the objurgations of the public, and 
the newspapers hauled him over the coals for not at 
once postponing the concert altogether. Further than 
that it was not permissible to make any comments. 

There are few theatres where the apparatus for 
guarding against or for extinguishing a fire is so com- 
plete as at the Munich opera-house. Some ten or 
twelve years ago a net-work of pipes, pierced with in- 
numerable small holes, was laid high up above all the 
flies and galleries, so that by opening a cock the water 
pours down like a heavy thunder-shower over the 
whole stage, thus effectually saturating all the scenery 
that may be hanging in the stage-house at the time. 



REAL RAIN. 243 

At one of the "separate performances" a piece was 
given in which a sudden pour of rain takes place. The 
actors, in such cases, usually pretend to get very wet, 
and one often sees a follow wringing out his cloak to 
make the illusion more convincing. The king, how- 
ever, did not want any pasteboard water this time ; it 
struck him that one ought to make use of the new 
extinguishing apparatus to provide real rain. It was 
a park scene. The stage was laid out with real sod, 
embellished with real flowers and trees, and now the 
king wanted real water. Representations were made 
to his majesty in as strong a form as one dared to do 
it that such a plan was not feasible; that the costumes 
would get spoiled ; that the scenery would get spoiled ; 
and, in fact, that the damage the water might cause 
was almost incalculable. AH this didn't mend the 
matter : the king had set his mind on it and he must 
have it. So there was nothing to be done but to turn 
the cock. There was some shaking and trembling on 
the stage before the water came, and there was more 
shaking and trembling when it did come. The actors 
had no umbrellas, because the piece was not a modern 
piece, but represented a period before the introduction 
of these liseful articles. The author might have left 
out the superfluous words, '' Mon Dieu, how it pours!" 
These were intended, of course, when the piece was 
given with imaginar}^ rain, to call attention to the sit- 
uation ; but there was no use for them now, for there 
was no mistake about the wetness of things. The 
reservoir at the top of the house was full, and the rain 
came down in streams, splashing up again from the 
stage into the orchestra. It is needless to say that the 
damage to costumes and scenery which was predicted 
was very great. Some of the magnificent scenery to 
" William Tell," which had been painted by the best 
artists from studies made in Switzerland in the locali- 
ties where the scenes of the tragedy are laid (and which 
had unfortunately been left hanging, from the previous 
night's performance), were so spoiled that they required 
months of repairing. The actors got the snuflles, and 
were on the sick list for some time, and the stage and 



244 VENERATION FOR LOUIS XIV. 

the machinery under it got so swollen that the traps 
wouldn't work for weeks. There wasn't a ghost of a 
chance of getting them open, and there wasn't a chance 
for a ghost during all that time. Even Hamlet's father, 
armed as he was "from top to toe — from crown to 
sole," could not have fought his way through one of 
those traps to astonish his moody son at midnight. 
The repertoire had to be kept within the limits of 
every-day existence ; there couldn't be any sudden and 
mysterious disappearances, and even any too great 
changing of scenes during a performance had to be 
avoided, for there was a great groaning and creaking 
of all the rollers when they were used until, after a 
general oiling of all the pins and sockets, things got 
back to their original state of dryness and dust again. 

The piece in which this natural deluge took place 
plays in the time of Louis XIV. of France. Several 
such pieces have been written expressly for the king. 

It is one of the peculiar, ununderstandable, and seem- 
ingly contradictory characteristics of the king's mind 
that, leaning, as he does, in his tastes to the legendary 
heroes which have been Wagner's favorites, — clothed 
with the nobility of high and chivalric virtues, — veiled 
and softened in the mists of long-past ages, he should 
also be an enthusiastic admirer of the Grand Monarque. 
He interests himself deeply in the history of and in 
all that concerns the French king. He venerates him, 
and he imitates him, but only in his architecture, not 
in his surroundings. The French monarch could not 
be without his courtiers, and especially without his 
ladies constantly around him. The Bavarian king 
builds palaces on the plan of Versailles, but the gor- 
geous halls are deserted ; no footstep falls in them ex- 
cept that of the king.^ On the Lake of Chiem a palace 
is now building which, if not quite so extensive, is 
richer in its interior decorations, in the mass of costly 
marbles, of carving and gilding, of silks and embroid- 
eries, than even the renowned French original. The 
king went to Versailles a couple of times, in the strict- 
est incognito, of course, to make a personal study of the 
building. He has court-suits the exact copies of those 



THE WINTER GARDEN. 245 

worn by his royal prototype, and, when alone, he some- 
times dons these and personates the great king of 
France for his own delectation. 

When His Majesty comes to town, and when he leaves 
it, which is always at night, his special train halts a 
few miles out — in the fields! — his carriage takes him 
from and to the train. He does not want to have any 
gaping spectators at the railway station. When in 
town, he spends a good part of his time in his mag- 
nificent winter garden on top of the palace. The 
visitor to Munich will notice on the west wing 
of the palace, facing the Hof Garden, an immense 
vaulted roof of glass, which extends backwards, at 
right angles, into one of the court-yards. This is the 
new winter garden of the king, to distinguish it from 
the old winter garden at the other end, adjoining, and 
forming the royal entrance to the opera-house. It is 
much higher than appears from the street, because 
its foundations go deep down below the cornice of the 
wall. It is a wonder in its way. It contains large 
trees and the rarest of flowers and plants. There is a 
lake in the centre, with machinery under the surface 
of the water by which it is kept in motion as if 
stirred by the wind, and to make it ripple against the 
shore. There is also a high water-fall coming down 
over natural rocks. When the garden was being built 
1 saw the immense rocks as they were slowly hoisted 
up to take their places there as if they had grown 
there. They were, with great labor, hollowed out, 
leaving only the outward shell, so as to make them 
lighter. Big, gnarled trunks of forest-trees were also 
hoisted up. At one end of the building, and closing 
the vista, is a colossal painting by Professor Knab, a 
former pupil of Piloty, representing a landscape in the 
character of the Himalayan Mountains, and all the 
plants at that end are of Asiatic origin. 

With the exception of some one or two favored ones 
of the royal family, and the gardeners who are obliged 
to attend to it, not a soul is allowed to see this bit of 
fairy-land. The strictest orders are issued — and the 
people know what they are to expect if they disobey 

21* 



246 THE KING AS A HORSEMAN. 

orders — that on no pretence is any one to be admitted. 
And so it is with all the other palaces of the king. 
Only the workmen who are engaged in the building of 
them, and a few servants, ever get a chance of seeing 
them. 

In the early part of the reign, soon after the finish- 
ing of the new winter garden, there was one exception 
to excluded mortals. It w^as an operatic lady. She 
was engaged to sit up on a high rock and sing. She 
began to imagine she had found favor in the eyes of the 
young king. She sometimes sang in the boat on the 
lake, while His Majesty paced up and down on the op- 
posite shore. She probably wanted to bring things to 
a climax ; so one day she left her moorings and put out 
into the lake, to cross it. She went boating on her own 
hook, singing all the time. Perhaps, not being such 
an adept with the sculls as with the scales, she upset 
herself into the water. The king did not rush in to her 
rescue, as might have been expected (and, perhaps, as 
was expected), but, knowing that the water was not 
very deep, he signalled to one of his lackeys to fish the 
lady out, while he walked quietly away, not to be a 
spectator of the discomposure of her toilet caused by 
her ducking. The lad}^ afterwards confined her aquatic 
performances to swimming around in the painted waters 
of Eheingold. 

In his youth the king was passionately fond of rid- 
ing ; in the early evening he was frequently to be seen 
emerging from the palace gate mounted on a fine, 
black, Arabian stallion, and cantering towards the Eng- 
lish Garden. He w^ore a small Hungarian hat with 
turned-up brim, and with long black ribbons floating 
out over his profuse, curling, black locks. He had a 
Bweet and winning expression of countenance. His 
youthful figure was well proportioned, and his move- 
ments were full of grace. With the increase of 3'ears 
and of flesh comes the desire to sit quietly behind the 
horse rather than on top of him. The king was a fine 
horseman, and he took the wildest rides in the wildest 
roads among the mountains. Following his solitary 
bent, he rode only in parts of the country where he 



A CURIOUS EXPEDIENT. 247 

was sure of meeting scarcely any people. He is a 
great lover of horses, and of course owns a magnificent 
stable ; he admires them with the eye of an artist, — he 
admires their fine forms, their power, their spirit, and 
the grace of their uncurbed actions. Perhaps it was 
the allusion to the wild horses in *' Macbeth" that once 
induced him to keep a whole stable full of the choicest 
steeds from all exercise for several days, well fed with 
oats, and then to have them turned out, unbridled, into 
a large enclosure, where he could witness their gambols, 
their tearing around, and their rolling in the grass. 

When he came to town he wanted to ride too, but 
there were too many people in the neighborhood of 
the city ; they were in his road. He hit upon a curious 
expedient. He had all his favorite rides measured out. 
After the opera (this was at the time he still attended 
the public performances) he would go to the riding 
arena attached to the royal stables (an immense build- 
ing with a lofty roof; the ground covered with tan) 
and mount his horse. This building had also been 
carefully measured, and so and so many times round 
represented the distance from certain places in the 
countr}^ to others. His adjutant was his sole com- 
panion, and had to be his groom also, but he had still 
other parts to perform, as we shall see. His Majesty 
rode furiously down along the wall, across the end, up 
the other side, and over at a right angle down again, 
and so on and on. His adjutant stood back with a note- 
book in his hand and carefully wrote down the number 
of times the king had performed the circuit of the 
building. When His Majesty had got round, say, three 
hundred and seventeen times, his adjutant would step 
forward and tell him he had now arrived at such and 
such a place, upon which His Majesty would rein in, 
salute the oflficcr as Herr Wirth (landlord), comment 
on the weather and the state of the roads, call for a 
glass of beer, which the obsequious adjutant biought 
him, mount a fresh horse, say good-by, and then gal- 
lop off again. At the end of, sa}^, four hundred and 
twenty-three rounds, the king was at some other place, 
when he would again halt. The same ceremony was 



248 ON THE MOUNTAIN-PASS. 

gone through with again, including the beer, the re- 
marks on the weather, — perhaps, for the sake of variety, 
with some observations on the crops, — and so the thing 
went on, — often till three or four o'clock in the 
morning. 

At present, the king takes less kindly to the saddle, 
and prefers a luxurious carriage. 

On the tops of many of the mountains are little hunt- 
ing-lodges, containingonly one or two rooms, but these 
magnificently furnished and decorated. No ordinary 
carriage can reach them, but the king has had little 
cars made, something like a jumper on wheels, or like 
a Eoman chariot turned front side back. There is room 
for but one person, and the body of this curious look- 
ing two-wheeled scoop almost touches the ground. 
Four or six horses are hitched, tandem fashion, and 
mounted by postilions, and thus the burly person of 
the king is hoisted up to these almost inaccessible 
places. He then spends the night there, — sometimes 
he remains for two or three days, all alone, wrapped 
up in the clouds and in the contemplation of nature. 
Sailing over the smooth bosom of Lake Kochel, one can 
see, high up at the very top of the Herzogenstand, a 
little excrescence which seems to be as big as a cigar- 
box ; and that is one of the king's hunting-lodges. 

At a high pass near the boundary of Austria stood an 
out-of-the-way tavern. It was built on a projecting 
rock, the sides of which go down perpendicularly, like 
a wall, some five or six hundred feet. The road winds 
round a narrow ledge, on the other side of which rises 
a breast of fir-covered woodland reaching to the clouds. 
The place is very lonely and the scenery is wild and 
grand ; so it just suited the king. He at once bought 
the house and had it transformed into a couple of 
princely chambers, which now glitter with gold. Walls, 
ceilings, and floors were made at Munich, and were put 
together when they reached their destination. One 
room is hung with crimson silk, the ceiling and all the 
wood- work being in white and gold, the other is hung 
with light blue satin with white and silver. They are 
both luxuriously furnished. His Majesty keeps the 



MIMIC STAGE. 249 

keys ; he generallj^ chooses the winter, when everything 
is covered with snow, to visit this place. The day be- 
fore a proposed visit servants are sent to put every- 
thing in order, to prepare food, and to stand guard 
when the king is within to keep off possible prying eyes 
and listening ears. 

When night comes on, and all nature is enveloped 
in darkness, the king is driven up to this high pass 
in his sleigh, — the horses covered with magnificent 
trappings (which can be seen in summer-time at the 
royal saddle-chamber at Munich). The king is muf- 
fled up in furs, but when he emerges from them to 
step into his apartments, lo, he is apparelled in the 
magnificent costume of Louis the Fourteenth. It is 
not known what he does there. His shadow has been 
seen at the window overlooking the valley by persons 
afar off. It is supposed he is up all night, and that 
when the first streak of the late morning twilight 
appears, he throws himself on a lounge and sleeps 
through the short winter day. On the second night, 
when darkness comes again, he glides into his sleigh, 
and is furiously driven back to his nearest castle, the 
horses charging along at the top of their speed over 
the winding and hilly road. 

I have several times mentioned the kinc^'s fondness 
for, and admiration of, Wagner's works. But it is not 
on the real stage alone that he sees them performed, — 
he performs them himself, — he is orchestra and stage- 
manager together, and his dramatis personce are — 
puppets. A model of the Munich stage and prosce- 
nium was made for him, complete in every part, with 
all the traps and machinery, foot-lights and prompter's 
box. The scenery was painted by the same artists that 
produced the original scenes for the onera-houso. The 
heroes of this toy stage are mute. They don't make 
a noise, but then they are jointed, and can be placed 
in any position. There is a separate figure for each 
of the principal personages in all the operas, and hun- 
dreds of others for the chorus. Under the directions 
of the artistic director of the royal opera, or costumer, 
as we would call him, a complete stage wardrobe was 



250 MOON OUT OF ORDER. 

made for all these little people. The king will some- 
times go through one of the operas from beginning to 
end, playing the music upon the piano, — on which 
instrument he is a skilled performer, — standing up his 
wooden subjects or knocking them down, as the situ- 
ation demands. 

When he is tired, he goes to his moon-lighted cham- 
ber to seek repose. The machinery of this moon was 
made by the former stage-carpenter of the opera-house. 
One night there was a catastrophe, — the moon wouldn't 
shine; there was something the matter with it, and 
the feeble attempts of the head man at the palace to 
tinker it up were resisted by the now sheenless orb. 
His Majesty could not sleep without the moon. There 
was no such thing in the programme as an eclipse, so 
the people were at their wits' ends to know what was 
to be done. But the king knew. He ordered the 
unlucky stage-carpenter to be fetched at once from 
Munich. It was telegraphed across the lake to have a 
special train in readiness; and it was telegraphed to 
Munich to have a carriage waiting at the station. The 
king's private steamboat^ which is always heated up, 
proceeded across the lake bearing the messenger. He 
jumped into the train at Starnberg, and rushed on to 
Munich ; he took the carriage there, and was rapidly 
driven to the house of the inventor of the moon. At 
dead of night the poor man was roused from his slum- 
bers by a violent ringing at his bell. It was natural 
for him to think the house was on fire, but what was 
his consternation to learn that he must at once proceed 
to Berg to repair the moon. He dressed himself as 
quickly as possible, was driven to the station, was 
carried to Starnberg, thence across the lake to the 
castle, and in scarcely more than an hour's time he 
had reached the moon. He was the only man that 
understood it, and he was soon able to make it shine 
again, — and the king was able to sleep. It is unneces- 
sary to say that the head machinist of the royal 
opera-house didn't get much sloep that night ; it took 
him several days to get over his fright. 



CHARACTER OF THE KING. 251 

Are all these things true ? I cannot vouch for them ; 
I relate them as I have often heard them related by 
persons who had the means of knowing about them ; 
they are anecdotes quite in common circulation. 

Notwithstanding these eccentricities of character, it 
must not be supposed that the present king of Bavaria 
is a weak-minded monarch. Although he keeps aloof 
from all personal intercourse with his royal colleagues, 
and although he seemingly devotes all his time to his 
own personal pursuits, he nevertheless neglects no 
business of state. When it has been necessary for him 
to give a decision in grave matters, he has displayed 
wisdom and intelligence, and rare powers of discern- 
ment, and quickness in grasping the subject. In what- 
ever he does, politically, he hits the nail on the head. 
He has shown himself strong enough not to be in- 
fluenced by the Eoman party which tried to control 
him, and has stoutly resisted all their wiles. He has 
secured freedom of conscience to his people. 

When the war broke out with France, he fearlessly 
did his duty. He at once sent out his army in the 
cause of united Germany against the power that had 
always sought to weaken it. The welfare of the com- 
mon Fatherland was dearer to him than the artificial 
independence of a small monarchy; he sacrificed per- 
sonal vanity in being the first to advocate that the 
king of Prussia should be proclaimed German emperor, 
and in the treaties after the war he secured for Bavaria 
an honorable and exalted station in the confederation 
of states that now form the empire. His dynasty is 
secured to him, and there is no reason to apprehend 
that the house of Wittelsbach, which has been reigning 
for over seven hundred years, will be deprived of its 
throne as long as Germany remains — a monarchical 
power. 



252 LUDWIQ THE FIRST. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Ludwig the First — The maker of modern Munich — Lola Montez — Her 
house in the Barer Strasse — History of Lola — First appearance in Mu- 
nich — Title of nobility — Personal appearance — Her portrait — Her am- 
bition — The students — Stabbing scene — Order to close the university 
— Affairs on the 10th of February — The students ordered to leave 
Munich — Police attack at the Academy — Resolutions of the citizens — 
Audience of the king — Students declare they will not leave the city — 
Demonstrations against the house of Lola — Affairs on the 11th of 
February — Concessions of the king — Lola ordered to leave town — Ar- 
rival of the king — Lola tries to get back to the palace — Abdication of 
the king — Lola's subsequent career and death — King Ludwig after his 
abdication — His jealousy of Maximilian — His free and easy manners — 
His witticisms at a concert. 

Louis the First, the grandfather of the present king, 
was the maker of modern Munich. His capital, when 
he came to the throne, was but a small and unimpor- 
tant place. It had not kept pace with the improve- 
ments in other cities. It contained many art-treasures, 
it is true, for the Wittelsbachers had always been 
patrons of the arts, but the collections were mostly 
locked up in the palaces, and were not easily accessible 
to the public. Besides interesting remains of the middle 
ages, it had many fine buildings of the Eenaissance 
period ; but they were little known to travellers, for 
Munich was an out-of-the-way sort of a place, and was 
visited by few tourists. The king, who, as crown 
prince, had spent a great part of his time in Ital}'' and 
Greece, had acquired a love for classic art. He was 
very saving — having but few personal wants — and was 
able to build the Glyptothek before he came to the 
throne. When his father, Maximilian Joseph, the first 
king of Bavaria,* died in 1825, he at once sought to 
make Munich the great centre of art for all Germany. 
The Art Academy had been founded by his father some 
years before. Louis called the most prominent artists 
of the day — architects, painters, and sculptors — to Mu- 

* Bavaria was raised from an electorate to a kingdom by the first 
Napoleon. 



THE MAKER OF MODERN MUNICH, 253 

Tiich, and he at once gave them employment. What- 
ever he had seen abroad that pleased him he wanted 
to have reproduced at Munich. His tastes were poet- 
ical, but not altogether practical. He built churches 
and palaces and temples in which to house the art- 
treasures of the kingdom, — magnificent halls and tri- 
umphal arches, but they were all put up in dreary, 
waste places, broiling in the sun, or standing bleak and 
lonely under the lowering skies, with the cold moun- 
tain winds beating around them. They were like gems 
without any setting, — like pictures without frames. In 
dry weather, clouds of dust encircled them; when it 
rained, they stood in a morass and were nearly unap- 
proachable. There were no paved streets nor sidewalks 
leading to them. He left for his successors to do what 
was useful. The great boon of having a supply of 
wholesome water for the town he never thought of. 
He copied so many of the buildings of Greece and 
Italy, he ought to have commenced by copying the 
Eoman aqueducts. Of all his great works, the realiza- 
tion of Charlemagne's idea of connecting the Danube 
with the Ehine b}^ the building of the Ludwig's Canal 
(1836 to 1845), is the only one that is of a purely busi- 
ness character. 

Although many of King Ludwig's buildings, like his 
doings, have been severely criticised, yet the beautiful 
and interesting city of Munich of the present day has 
to thank him for what it has become. 

As one walks out the Barer Strasse towards the 
Pinakothek, not very far from that building, and on 
the left-hand side of the street. No. 19, stands an un- 
pretentious three-story house, which has nothing to 
distinguish it outwardly, in importance, from the other 
houses near it. In its present form it is much larger 
than it originally was. When first built, it was a sim- 
ple two-stoiy house without any wings. An iron gate 
on cither side gave entrance both to the house and to 
the garden beyond, which was very extensive, — quite a 
little park, having grand old trees in it and luxuriant 
shrubbery, and adorned with fountains and statues 

22 



254 LOLA MONTEZ, 

and grottos. It was surrounded by other gardens, — for 
the cit}" at that time did not extend that far, — so that 
the house itself was a suburban villa, just near enough 
to the city to form a part of it, yet detached from the 
rows of contiguous houses, thus having the neighbors 
not all too near. But if the house was plain on the 
outside and of very moderate dimensions, the interior 
was said to contain wonders : it was a very fairy-land 
of splendor. It got to be gossiped about that enormous 
sums of money had been spent in making this mansion 
a marvel of magnificence, such as had never been seen 
except in the imagination of the Eastern story-teller 
who has so vividly described the riches of Aladdin^s 
palace. 

It was said that gold and precious stones glittered 
on every side; that the walls w^ere hung with the 
richest silks of India interwoven with thread of gold, 
or were painted wMth n^^mphs and cupids framed in 
with mosaics of the rarest marbles. Crystal and 
mother-of-pearl, lapis lazuli and malachite were scat- 
tered on all sides in the most dazzling combinations of 
colors. Gorgeous draperies from the looms of Paris 
and Persian carpets soft as down, and princely fur- 
niture, gave comfort and luxuriance such as no Pompa- 
dour, no Maintenon, no Du Barry had ever indulged 
in. The air was perfumed with the breath of the most 
exquisite of exotic plants and fruits and flowers, and 
a rainbow-tinted light shed its lustre over all. 

The truth is, the lower, or ground floor, the one 
connecting with the garden, was fitted up and furnished 
in Pompeiian style, the walls and <}eilings painted in 
those glowing colors and with those graceful and deli- 
cate designs, which, even transplanted to the rougher 
climate of Munich, must have had a peculiar charm and 
gorgeous eff*ect. The upper rooms were filled with 
everything that royal means and royal taste could pro- 
cure to make the apartments such as a royal guest 
could revel in. 

The royal hand that created this little paradise was 
that of King Louis the First of Bavaria, — but still, he 
was only a guest iIkmv. The hostess was Lola Montez. 



LOLA MONTEZ. 255 

It is very hard to get at the truth concerning the 
birth and parentage and antecedents of this peculiar 
person, whose career was certainly one of the most 
romantic of modern times. According to some ac- 
counts, she was born at Montrose, in Scotland, accord- 
ing to others at Limerick, or at Seville, in Spain, about 
the year 1820. She appears to have been the illegiti- 
mate daughter of an Irishman or Scotchman by the 
name of Gilbert. It is probable that her mother, after 
marrying the Carlist officer by the name of Montez, 
who, however, was soon after killed, gave her daughter 
his family name to bear. She was called Maria Dolores 
Peris y Montez, or Lola, for short, which is the familiar 
Spanish abbreviation of Dolores. She received her first 
education from her mother, and was afterwards sent to 
a school at Bath. While still quite young, she secretly 
married an officer by the name of James, but soon left 
him, after having accompanied him to India. She 
made extensive travels in that country, but at the end 
of a few years she returned to England. She went 
upon the stage as a dancer, and went through some 
strange adventures in Paris and Brussels. 

In 1846 she came to Munich and danced at the royal 
opera-house. But not long. She soon attracted the 
attention of the king. He took her from the stage and 
planted her in those snug quarters in the Barer Strasse. 
She lived there like a princess. The king gave her 
everything her heart could wish for. He gave her that 
beautiful house, he gave her horses and carriages, ho 
gave her liveried servants, he gave her rare and costly 
presents, and he gave her a title of nobility. This 
latter, however, not without difficulty. The ministry 
was strongly ultramontane. The minister-president 
thought to gain the support of the nobility and of the 
rest of the ro^-al family — who, of course, viewed this 
spectacle of royal attachment to a dancer with jealousy 
and repugnance — by protesting openly against such an 
act as the inoculating so light-inoraled atui light-i'oolod 
a stranger with the blue blood of Jkivaria. The minister 
predicted that a revolution would take place if the act 
were consuinnuited. But the king feared the bright 



256 LOLA MONTEZ. 

eyes of Lola more than he feared his minister, or even 
the prospect of a revolution. He was up to the emer- 
gency. He dismissed his entire cabinet, or, as he ex- 
pressed it in his own royal words, he " kicked out the 
whole set of them." 

With the formation of the new cabinet, Lola was 
soon known as the Countess of Landsfeld. She was 
not considered handsome, but she had a vivacity of ex- 
pression that gave her irresistible charms. She was 
still a young woman. She had large, lustrous black 
eyes, with long, drooping lashes, and a wealth of wavy, 
raven hair, that was almost purple in its blackness. 
When excited, her thin nostrils dilated, and her eyes 
shot fire, and the color burst into her otherwise pale 
cheeks : her olive complexion was all aglow. In figure 
she was of medium height, and slender. Until about 
twenty years ago her portrait, painted by Stieler, formed 
one of the collection of beauties which King Ludwig 
ordered, and which cover the walls of two of the rooms 
of the new palace at Munich. It was certainly one of 
the most interesting of them alh King Maximilian, at 
last, had it removed, because the public, in viewing it, 
were apt to make unpleasant remarks concerning his 
father ; out of respect for the latter and for his own 
family, Maximilian, although he owed his premature 
ascent to the throne to that woman, thought it better 
— disregarding all rules of symmetry — to have a blank 
space at one end of the wall than to have it covered 
with that portrait. For a long time the square on the 
red silk hanging, which had preserved its original color 
under the picture, while all the exposed parts of the 
tapestry had became bleached to a pinkish gray, 
naturally led strangers to inquire what picture was 
wanting. Some years ago all the pictures were re- 
hung, so as not to leave an empty space. 

It is not to be wondered at that a woman like Lola, 
in the prime of her years, bright, witty, with a pas- 
sionate nature, and possessing great command of lan- 
guage, and who could be irresistibly winning in her 
manners when there was anything to be won, should 
soon gain the confidence of a monarch who not only 



LOLA MONTEZ, 257 

admired everything that had a spice of poetical mys- 
tery in it, but who also fully appreciated natural grace, 
intelligence, and piquancy in others, — for he himself 
was gifted with all these qualities. 

Lola, not satisfied with possessing the friendship of 
the king, who was her almost daily visitor, sought to 
make her influence felt in another field than that of ad- 
miration. She wished to take the reins of courtly in- 
trigue and of royal favor into her own hands, as other 
charmers had done with other Louises. That, even at 
the very start of her career in Bavaria, she was able to 
upset the cabinet, could not fail to give her courage to 
attempt still greater things. She succeeded in a man- 
ner, and her growing power began to be more and 
more feared. Her house became a kind of intelligence- 
office for supplying servants of the state with good po- 
sitions. With a deal of cunning, she especially sought 
to fill the high offices of the police department with her 
creatures, for she knew that a time might come when 
she would want their assistance. 

Lola was very fond of the old king, who was now in 
his sixty-second year, but she had room in her large 
heart for younger lovers too. There were certain 
students at the university who became her favorites ; 
who were happy to bask in the light of her coun- 
tenance, to smoke prime Havana cigars, in which she, 
in Spanish fashion, joined them, and to drink the iced 
champagne from the royal cellars. These students 
formed themselves into a corps or society, calling them- 
selves the " AUemania." In the language of the popu- 
lace they were known as the "Lolianers." These peo- 
ple, sunning themselves in the reflected rays of royalty, 
or enjoying the kingly presence by proxy, soon made 
things too warm for the less distinguished, students, 
whose shoulders got very cold by contrast. The whole 
corporation of students refused to associate in any 
manner with the Allemanians, they were bent on com- 
pletely ostracizing them. 

The Allemanians held their social meetings at Cafe 
Eothmanncr, at the entrance of the court garden (the 
present Cafe Denglor). On the 8th of February, 1848, 
r 2'2^ 



258 LOLA MONTEZ, 

on two of the^AUemanians showing themselves at a 
lecture at the university, the other students in a body 
rose from their seats and left the lecture-room. This 
had happened several times before. The professor tried 
his utmost to urge them quietly to remain, but his 
words were not listened to. The class collected on the 
outside of the building, and when the two AUemanians 
left it, they followed them down the Ludwig's Strasse 
as far as the cafe, giving vent to hisses and groans of 
the most unmistakable character. 

The next day the thing was repeated, when one of 
the AUemanians, just as he was about entering the 
cafe suddenly turned, and, drawing his dirk, attacked 
and severely wounded one of the unoffending (?) stu- 
dents. The knight of the knife took refuge in the 
cafe, which was surrounded by a crowd of threatening 
students and others, but policemen being near, as they 
always are at that point, called others to their assistance, 
and with their bayonets kept off the crowd, which 
loudly demanded the arrest of the offender. 

At this crisis, Lola Montez, who was taking her cus- 
tumary noonday promenade, came down the Ludwig's 
Strasse attended by a couple of her proteges. It was 
noticed that they were seemingly expostulating with 
her not to proceed farther towards the crowd. But 
she was determined, and walked on. When she got 
near the cafe she asked some bystander what the 
matter was. She was immediately recognized, and the 
crowd in its rage setting upon her, she quickly tried 
to take refuge in the house of one of the nobility close 
by. But the door was closed against her ; she had 
again to face the crowd, and had a hard time in manag- 
ing to get into the adjoining Church of the Theatines, 
which is just opposite the palace, and near the cafe in 
front of which the stabbing had taken place. Al- 
though a great stream of people had followed her into 
the church, yet the sanctity of the building was re- 
spected, and no further harm was offered her there. 
The crowd partially left the spot. Others who had not 
seen where Lola had taken refuge made a demonstra- 
tion at the police headquarters farther down the street, 



LOLA MONTEZ. 259 

for it was supposed by them that she had taken refuge 
in that building. When a suitable opportunity offered, 
Lola was escorted by a posse of mounted police-officers 
across the street to the palace. She was still threatened 
by the mob, and on the way she drew a pistol, which, 
it appears, she always carried about her, but fortunately 
she made no use of it. She was wild in her depreca- 
tions of Munich and of its inhabitants, and she was 
heard to say, in French, that it would be no great pity 
to burn down the whole nest (meaning the city). 

On the afternoon of the same day the king sent an 
order to the rector of the university to close the same 
at once, and to keep it closed for the rest of that term, 
— till the next October. The rector stoutly contended 
that the king had no right to give such an order, — that 
he was mixing himself in affairs that did not concern 
him, and over which he could have no control, — that 
he, the rector, was at the head of that institution, and 
that he would not give up his authority even for a 
king. Fearing, however, that a scene of riot and blood- 
shed might ensue, — for he knew that the students 
would fight on the side of alma mater, — he finally closed 
the iron gates and had a proclamation posted up that 
the university would not be opened until October. 

During the rest of the day and night the streets were 
patrolled by the military. The Barer Strasse was oc- 
cupied by soldiers at each opening, and the house of 
Lola was strongly guarded by the police. 

On the 10th, the next day, things began to assume a 
still more threatening aspect. The notice of the closing 
of the university was not the only one that was posted 
on its gates, but there was also a proclamation accom- 
panying it, that by royal order the students must leave 
the city by Saturday, the 12th of February, only the 
next day but one after. Although this cruel and un- 
justifiable command primarily affected the students 
themselves, yet there were others who would greatly 
suffer thereby if the order were carried into execution, 
— the great army of tradesmen, shop-keepers, and letters 
of lodgings, who would certainly be the losers by this 
decamping of a thousand men who were in their debt ; 



260 LOLA MONTEZ. 

they at once went over to the side of the students, and 
joint resolutions were at once passed. The citizens 
were to assemble at one o'clock at the town-hall, the 
students at about the same time in front of the univer- 
sity. The students did not at first pretend to any op- 
position to the order to leave the city at the appointed 
time. They marched down to the Academy (which 
was at that time the seat of the Ministry of the Inte- 
rior) to take a formal leave of the minister. Prince 
Wallerstein, singing on the way "Gaudeamus igitur." 
A company of policemen approached from one of the 
neighboring streets. The captain may have thought 
this demonstration of the students to be revolutionary; 
at any rate he made a charge upon them with fixed bay- 
onets, and, it is said, made a personal assault on one of 
the students who was standing in the door-way of the 
Academy, wounding him with his sword. The students 
were not armed, and several of them were hurt. 

The citizens, meanwhile, had assembled at the court- 
house, and there demanded that the mayor should head 
a deputation to confer with the king, and to compel 
him to rescind the order for the closing of the univer- 
sity, and to have the captain of the police who had 
made his unwarranted charge upon the students con- 
summately punished, to command that Lola must im- 
mediately leave the kingdom, and that the Allemanians 
must be disbanded. The mayor advocated asking an 
audience of the king merely for himself and one or two 
of the citizens, and proposed that the others should 
quietly disperse. But the good citizens were not to be 
put off in this manner, and remained firm in their de- 
termination to march in a body to the palace, and to 
await in the open square in front the decision of the 
king. The mayor, being compelled to acquiesce, pro- 
ceeded to the royal residence to ask at what hour the 
king would receive the deputation, and, after a long 
delay, was obliged to return to the court-house to an- 
nounce to the impatient citizens that the king was not 
in his palace. But this royal "not at home'* was no 
more believed in than when private persons put off 
unwelcome visitors with that conventional lie. As the 



LOLA MONTEZ. 261 

crowd meant business, it was determined to go on and 
burrow out majesty at any risk. The mayor and the 
city council got themselves into their official court-rig, 
with cocked hat and sword and golden-striped breeches. 
They rode to the palace, the concourse of citizens fol- 
lowing in good order behind. The latter filled the Max 
Joseph's Place, crowding up the broad steps of the 
royal opera-house and the long colonnade of the post- 
office. The approaches to the palace were guarded by 
infantrj^ and cavalry. 

The deputation was presented to the king by his 
brother, Prince Luitpold, who earnestly urged him to 
comply with the public wish. The king at first stormed 
around, saying he would rather lose his life than take 
back his royal word in regard to the closing of the 
university, but, becoming by degrees more quiet, he 
said he must at least confer with his privy councillors 
and his ministers, and that his decision would then be 
made known to them. The crowd returned to the 
court-house to await the turn of events, and it was late 
in the evening that the king's answer came, — that he 
was willing to have the university reopened after 
Easter. But this was not satisfactory, and the citi- 
zens, after indulging in threatening remarks against 
the privy councillor who had brought them the infor- 
mation (and who was suspected of having influenced 
the king), told him to go back to his master and to 
report that it was the determination of the citizens 
to press the matter to an issue, and that they would 
reassemble at the town-hall early the next morning to 
take further steps. 

While these things were transpiring at the palace 
and at the town-hall, the students had declared at their 
meeting that they would not leave the city as ordered 
to do by royal decree. 

A demonstration was made against the house of Lola 
that night, but the approaches being well guarded by 
mounted policemen, no great damage was done, though 
bricks and stones, and other missiles less savory were 
freely used by the crowd. At the same time others 
had gone to the police headquarters to make an attack 



262 LOLA MONTEZ. 

on that building. The gens d'armes several times 
tried to make a sally, but were always driven back by 
the shower of paving-stones which had been torn up 
from the street. The captain who had made the 
charge on the students in the afternoon was not to be 
seen. In this street fight many persons were, of 
course, severely wounded, but none fatally. It was 
only on the appearance of a large body of military 
coming up from the Marien Platz that the enraged 
crowd was dispersed and the tumult quelled. This 
was the state of things on the night of the 10th of 
February. 

The royal opera-house was very empty that night, 
but still the king had the courage to attend the per- 
formance, remaining during the first act. 

Besides the attacks upon Lola's house and the police 
headquarters, there were demonstrations against the 
gens d'armes made at every point: wherever they 
showed themselves they were assailed with stones and 
brickbats. 

On Friday, the 11th, the citizens again assembled at 
the town-hall at eight o'clock, and resolved to send an- 
other deputation to the king, to demand that the uni- 
versity be opened on the following Monday, and that 
Lola, who had been the cause of all the trouble, be im- 
mediately ordered out of the city, — she must not only 
leave Munich, but she must leave Bavaria at once. 
The students, meanwhile, met at the university to 
await the issue of the conference with the king. The 
iron gates had been opened to them, and they inter- 
preted this as a certain concession to their rights. 
They were no longer locked out from the build- 
ing. They remained quite orderly, watching out for 
the first appearance of the citizens on their return 
from the palace. When these at last came, they 
brought the news that the king had given in to them 
on all points. 

Loud cheers now went up for the king. Students 
and citizens joined with each other and marched in 
procession down the Ludwig's Strasse and past the 
royal residence. 



LOLA MONTEZ. 263 

It had been rumored through the city that Lola had 
been ordered to leave Munich within an hour, and 
Bavaria within twenty-four hours. 

A crowd assembled before her house, making loud 
demonstrations of anger against her, which soon turned 
into attempts at actual violence. The mounted police, 
who were guarding the house, did their best to prevent 
the excited mob from getting near the gates, but not- 
withstanding, a large body, by a decisive rush, pushed 
on to the entrances and made a show of battering down 
the bars and bolts. At this moment, Lola, who had not 
had much time for making her toilet, appeared on the 
balcony, a pistol in each hand, and swore to shoot down 
the first man that touched the gates. Almost at the 
same instant the king came up to the scene of action 
and tried to appease the crowd. He had an eye to his 
property, too, for he cried out loudly, " That is my 
house ; that is my house ; it doesn't belong to her. Be 
quiet, my dear friends, and all will go well ; the count- 
ess will leave the city at once. Make room that she may 
be able to drive out." The royal words had their effect 
on the crowd, for the king was very popular ; he had 
always lived on such an easy and accessible footing 
with his subjects that his person and his voice were 
familiar to them all, and when the mob now saw him 
and heard his earnest entreaties, it drew back instinc- 
tively from the approaches to the house. Lola, too, 
appeared to be somewhat reassured by the appearance 
of the king. She immediately withdrew from the 
balcony, and it was not long before the gates were 
thrown open and the Countess of Landsfeld, in an open 
barouche, drove out, stately and perfectly self-possessed. 
There had been no time for leave-taking with her royal 
lover, but, with a woman's smartness, she thought she 
saw through the whole thing; she saw that the king's 
presence and his pacifying words were merely a ruse 
to delude the public, and that the true interpretation 
thereof was that she should simply make a pretence 
of leaving the city. She drove ofr, therefore, at full 
gallop, and was soon out of sight, but when she got far 
beyond the city she made a dash over towards the 



264 LOLA MONTEZ. 

English Garden and then drove back to the royal 
palace, which she attempted to enter by the back door. 
She supposed the king would keep her in hiding there 
till the storm had blown over. But here she was 
mistaken ; everything was closed against her, and the 
royal commands were not to let her in. Her eyes 
were now opened to the fact that her little game in 
Munich was at an end. There was nothing left for her 
but to fly. The horses were again spurred on, and her 
carriage rattled out at the Sendlinger gate, taking the 
road to Hesselohe; at night she cut across the country 
to Pasing; she there took the train, and had soon left 
Bavaria behind her. 

The events of these few February days in Munich 
were the precursors of those more serious ones which 
took place in March. It was the time when all parts 
of Germany were shaken with revolutions against 
monarchical power. The King of Bavaria did not 
escape from the troubles of this general movement. 
The populace demanded great constitutional conces- 
sions at his hand, which he was loath to comply with, 
although the queen, on her knees, begged him to give 
in to the just desires of the people. He was stubborn, 
— the events of the past few weeks had soured his 
disposition towards the public, and he could not bear 
to be dictated to by it. He therefore preferred 
abdicating the throne in favor of his eldest son 
Maximilian, which he did, on the 20th of March, 1848. 

The person who had been the cause of the disturb- 
ances in Munich was also well known in America, 
and this may excuse my writing at length about what 
was only an episode of local Bavarian history. Lola 
figured in the United States as a dancer and as a 
lecturer. It was her former relations with the King 
of Bavaria that gave a romantic tinge to her career 
and drew more public attention to her than would 
otherwise have been the case. 

After leaving Bavaria she went first to England, and 
there married a young officer by the name of Heald ; 
but ho soon deserted her. 

She died in New York in 1861. Her last days were 



KING LUDWIG AFTER HIS ABDICATION. 265 

spent in retirement, she living on a pittance of a friend 
who had known her in her childhood at Montrose. 

I am told that in America the subject of one of her 
lectures was " Female charms and female virtue." 
Lola possessed the one and knew a good deal about the 
other, presumably. She adverted freely to her life 
and doings in Munich, spoke in high terms of the king, 
and innocently alluded to him as Mr. Wittelsbach. 

All her royal surroundings had fled. 

KingLudwig, after he had laid down the sceptre and 
the sword, and hung up the ermine and the crown, lived 
the life of a private gentleman. Not being longer bur- 
dened with the management of state affairs, he could 
devote his life to his pleasures. He enjoyed this for a 
time, but when the political troubles had cleared away 
and things got into their ordinary ruts again, he always 
afterward viewed his son's position with something of 
envy and jealousy. A sort of estrangement crept in 
between father and son ; they only met when the 
rules of etiquette strictly required it. At the theatre, 
Maximilian sat in his proscenium-box to the right, the 
old king in his proscenium-box to the left, as far apart 
as possible. When they went to the public balls, they 
generally kept to the opposite ends of the room. At 
the concerts, a row of arm-chairs for the royal family 
were placed in front of the platform and heading all 
the other seats. At one end of the line sat the king; 
at the other end, his father. During the pauses it was 
their custom to walk around the room to converse 
with such of the audience as they were acquainted 
with. The king went up one side, the old gentleman 
up the other side ; when they met at the top they 
dodged each other in courtly manner, and then con- 
tinued their promenade until each had finished the 
circuit. 

Old Ludwig was very free and easy in his manners, 
— it assisted his popularity, he thought. He was gos- 
sipy, too, and liked to know all that was going on in 
all circles of the community. He would often stop 
people on the street and chat with them about their 
M 23 



266 WITTICISMS AT A CONCERT, 

own affairs and the affairs of their neighbors. One of 
his greatest delights was to see people embarrassed, and 
as he gave full liberty to his tongue and was not over- 
fine in his consideration for the feelings of others, he 
managed often to bring a blush to the cheeks of those 
he addressed and to make them feel extremely un- 
comfortable. Then he chuckled at his success. Being 
rather deaf, too, and especially when he didn't want to 
hear, he habitually spoke in a loud voice which could 
be heard by all in his neighborhood; even his whispers 
were very much like those on the stage. 

At one of the Odeon concerts, when the two kings 
were about to make their customary circuit of the hall, 
I happened to be standing under the colonnade to the 
right. When the old king started from his chair the 
first person his eyes rested upon was an immensely fat 
lady, — such as one seldom sees, except for money. All 
at that end of the hall rose, of course, as the king rose. 
The lady belonged to one of the wealthier families, 
for her ample bosom supported a number of diamonds, 
and she was addressed as baroness. 

"Well, well," said the king in his usual brusque 
manner, "dear me, — how do you do, baroness, — haven't 
seen you for a long time, — you're looking very well, 
though." 

"Yes," said the lady, trying to make as graceful a 
courtesy as possible, " as your Majesty sees." 

"Yes, yes, — I see, — getting fatter from day to day; 
if you don't look out, you'll soon be so stout that you 
won't be able to bow to me at all any more." 

A general titter. The king moved on. The dia- 
monds around the lady's neck were resting on a bed 
of crimson that shot straight out through all the 
powder. 

Just in front of me stood a young Austrian officer. 
The king came up to him. "VVhat's your name, sir, 
what's your name ?" " So and so, your Majesty." 

" Ah, ah," said the king, " much pleased, much pleased, 
— knew your father well, — jolly fellow, — glad to know 
his son. But tell me" (this in one of his stage whis- 
pers), "who are those young ladies?" — pointing slj'ly 



THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY, 267 

towards a couple of very slim and shy-looking girls 
close by. 

" Please, your Majesty, those are cousins of mine," 
returned the officer; "may I introduce them?" 

The king put his hand to his mouth and continued 
his whisper, which, however, could be heard by all 
that were near, "You must tell them not to lace so 
tight, — it's not good for the health, — not good for the 
health." 

And the king passed on. Such were the kingly 
words I heard that evening. 

The foregoing are but mild examples of the king's 
unrestrained conversational style. The equivocal re- 
marks he often made, the smart replies he gave, the 
questions he asked and the quibs he perpetrated are 
told over by hundreds of people who heard them, but 
many of these witticisms are of such a character that, 
although his majesty may have thought them suitable 
for the occasions which called them forth, and for his 
own royal lips to utter, are certainly not suitable for 
these fair pages. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Centennial Fourth of July — Our mode of celebrating Fourth of 
July — The Centennial — Art of decorating by Munich artists — Paris 
Exhibition of 1867 — Nothing but flags — Flowers — Decorations at Hotel 
Dctzer — The speeches — Conclusion of the celebration — American Ar- 
tists' Club — Conundrums — Puns and sayings. 

The "heathen Chinee" has taught us several things, 
— which we give him due credit for. Ho claims to 
have been before us by many thounands of years in 
other things which we fondly imagine we ourselves 
had discovered and invented. Be that as it may, ho 
certainly taught us how to eclcbrato the Fourth of 
July. Wc have been faithful to him in this res|)ect 
ever since we have had a Fourth of July, though there 



268 THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY. 

are many thoughtful people now who begin to preach 
that we ought to find out some more original way of 
giving vent to our patriotic feelings than in the present 
explosive and sulphurous manner. However well fire- 
crackers and other detonating instruments of joy of a 
larger and noisier calibre may do for us at home, it is 
evident that in foreign places, when our great national 
festival comes round, we are obliged to adopt a dif- 
ferent form for its celebration. In the cities of Europe, 
wherever two or three Americans are met and as- 
sembled together, the festivities generally take the 
form of a dinner or supper, where the popping of cham- 
pagne corks supplies the necessary shooting for the 
occasion. 

The Americans at Munich never allow a Fourth of 
July to pass without notice, and as the artists generally 
take the thing in hand, there is always something in 
the spirit in which it is done, and in the festive decora- 
tions that accompany it, that give these celebrations a 
distinctive and original character. 

The Centennial Fourth of July was something which 
each man instinctively felt he was only likely to take 
part in once in his life. It was not a determination 
alone, — it was an inmate impulse which actuated the 
American artists to do their best and their worthiest 
for the great event. There were thousands of other 
celebrations of the day, celebrations attended with 
more pomp, with more noise, with greater display of 
oratoiy, and, withal, with more expense, but I am sure 
there was none where the enthusiasm was greater or 
where the artistic embellishments were finer or more 
appropriate than at Munich. It is of these that I wish 
particularly to speak. 

I doubt whether there are many places where the 
art of decorating buildings internally or externally 
and streets and public squares for festive occasions is 
better understood than at Munich. The Munich artists 
are celebrated for their taste, their genius, their inven- 
tiveness in this respect. They convert the barest hall 
into an ephemeral fairy-land. They make use of 
forest-trees, artificial rocks, plants and flowers, dra- 



THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY, 269 

peries of rich stuffs, statues, and paintings, improvised 
architectural bits, combining all into voluptuous group- 
ings of gorgeous colors and graceful forms. They are 
not stinting of gold ; and after all, gold is the most 
beautiful of all colors; it harmonizes with and height- 
ens the effect of everything with which it is brought 
into contact, — it catches the light and transplants it to 
distant places, and it sparkles there like dew-drops on 
flowers. Gold gladdens the heart of man, — its very 
shimmer suggests joy and gayety. The Munich artists 
have the knack of making the most deceptive imita- 
tions of old Gobelins, of building up groups of statuary 
and immense vases with bits of canvas over a form of 
straw, and moulding directly with the plaster ; out of 
the most humble and unsuspected of materials they 
make arms and armor and emblems of all kinds, and 
for performances and processions they even make ani- 
mals — elephants, camels, and dragons — which are as- 
tonishingly natural in their appearance and in their 
movements. 

It will be remembered that at the International Ex- 
hibition of Paris in 1867 the Munich artists decorated 
their hall in which their paintings were exhibited in 
such a manner as to eclipse all the other halls of the 
art department in richness and beauty, and to call forth 
universal admiration, and especially of the French 
themselves, and that is saying a great deal. When 
the triumphant German troops returned to their gar- 
risons after the eventful war of 1870-71, it was ad- 
mitted that the street decorations of Munich far sur- 
passed those of Berlin both in splendor and in taste. 
The services of the Munich artists are called in requisi- 
tion where decorations for any festive occasion arc to 
be made, at other places too. 

In America we are somewhat limited in our idea of 
festive decoration. 

It would be rank heresy not to say that our flag is 
the most beautiful one in the world ; apart from our 
patriotic reverence for the " broad stripes and bright 
stars," we see in its undulations as it floats in the breeze 
chasing gleams of color which are in themsolvos boau- 

23* 



270 THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY. 

tiful. "When the light falls through the bunting its 
rich hues are softened into harmonious blendings. Yes, 
our flag is always beautiful! but, for decorating pur- 
poses, do we not make just a little too much of it? 
Whether the occasion is a patriotic one or a scientific 
one, or a musical one or a religious one, our flag is 
there by hundreds of dozens, — big flags and little flags 
— flags strung across lines, like clothes to dry — flags 
with their sticks crossed and flags stuck up straight — 
or flags gathered up by the hands of the upholsterer 
into pleats and flounces, gored and biassed, and flags 
stretched across platforms and along galleries — flags 
hung straight over balconies, like aprons — flags used 
as curtains, and flags used as table-covers. Perhaps 
we add a few strings of evergreen slung from one un- 
eonstructional part of the building to another, making 
what we call festoons. They are generally of the 
same thickness throughout, like sausages; and like 
sausages are hitched up at the end with a string. We 
wind some creeping plants around the chandeliers and 
hang up some Chinese lanterns, — and we are about at 
an end. 

But then there are the flowers, — which I have for- 
gotten ; oh, yes, the flowers. But what are our ideas 
about flowers ? Our ideas are that to make any efl'ect 
we must have them in profusion, — by the cart-load. It 
is the boast of entertainers, whether public or private, 
that the flowers alone cost so and so many hundreds 
of dollars. We must let the expense of the thing speak 
for our good intentions. We plaster flowers on the 
walls or on the banisters of the staircase, or we torture 
them into eccentric groups which we call emblems. 
The poor flowers are skewered on wires like the early 
Christians were empaled ; the iron is forced through 
their tender hearts, and they are slowly bleeding to 
death while we are dancing or feeding in the midst of 
them. We all know the mushy, incongruous forms 
into which they are wrought. If the occasion is a 
wedding, there hangs the huge clump of whiteness 
which our fancy defines as the "marriage bell," and 
under which the happy pair have to stand while the 



THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY, 271 

ceremony is going on. Why we should select the 
bell as an emblem (if even the flowery monster only 
looked like one) I am at a loss to understand. I sup- 
pose a bell rings seldomer for a marriage than it does 
for anything else, — and then there are so many other 
kinds of bells besides church bells : there are the fire 
bell and the locomotive bell, the steamboat bell and the 
factory bell, and scores of others that clapper for like 
every-day purposes. The poetry of bells has pretty 
much faded out since the time when Schiller wrote his 
grand ode. Then besides, we have cushions and books 
and other meaningless objects simulated with crowded 
flowers with all the breath crushed out of them by 
being so jammed together. 

At funerals the thing is almost even worse; the 
coffin is heaped up with crosses and stars and crowns 
and anchors and hearts, all done in the rarest and 
costliest of white flowers, and yet we know the poor 
fellow within was neither a monarch — to wear a 
crown, nor a sailor — to have use for an anchor, nor a 
butcher — accustomed to the ripping out of hearts. 

In respect to festive decorating the American artists 
at Munich have profited by the example set them by 
their German brothers there, and on the occasion of 
which I am speaking, their cunning hands transformed 
the fine dining-hall of Hotel Detzer into a scene of 
marvellous brilliancy and magnificence. Entering the 
room from the low Eenaissance corridor leading to it, 
*' One stood in amazement in the midst of beauty in 
every form," as one of the reporters aptly said in the 
newspaper account of it. The table was set in horse- 
shoe form, with the opening towards the entrance, 
thus permitting one before taking one's seat to have a 
full survey of the whole. The first object which struck 
the eye was a colossal bust of ''America" in tinted 
plaster, standing out in soft relief against a back- 
ground of rich old velvet, at the centre of the head 
wall; an immense buff*alo-hido covered the pedestal, 
sweeping down in dark, slTaggy folds to the floor. A 
peculiar luminousness was thus given to the head, in 



272 THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY, 

which a subtle blending of the Indian type with a 
classic conception of outline, pose, and expression, 
stamped it as a work of noble and earnest art. A 
stern repose of feature — a majesty of countenance — 
gave it the look of a seeress, — a prophetess. Those 
calm, large, searching eyes seemed to be piercing the 
glorious centuries which our nation has before it. 
Picturesqueness was given to the whole design by the 
simple and well-arranged drapery over the breast and 
the flowing lines of the hair. This bust was the work 
of Mr. Frank Dengler, a young artist of great promise. 
It was almost his last work. Eeturning soon afterwards 
to Boston, he died there a few months after his arrival. 

The pictorial decorations consisted of large canvases 
upwards of ten feet in height, and varying in width to 
suit the wall spaces between the pilasters. Framed in 
by the architecture of the room, they lost all seeming 
of being only temporary adornments. 

On either side of the bust just mentioned were paint- 
ings by Duveneck, who even at that time was noted for 
his bold handling and forcible color. They were alle- 
gorical embodiments of the Goddess of Liberty. On 
the left she appeared as a fair, heaven-descending 
figure in the first blush of maidenhood. She floats 
over the sea ; the soft brightness of morning is break- 
ing forth at the horizon; the beams of the new-born 
sun stream upwards over her form and her features, 
sufi^using her in iridescent light. Her pale drapery 
rustles in the breeze as she slowly descends; a 
sword is in her right hand, and with her left, out- 
stretched above her head, she draws down from the 
sky the new flag, whose tints seem to be taking grad- 
ual form and substance from the pure ether above and 
the rosy vapors around. 

On the right, she was depicted as a strong, nobly- 
developed woman (the America of to-day), standing 
firmly on the land with the upraised laurel wreath of 
victory in her hand, — a figure of remarkable vigor 
both in drawing and in tone. 

The left wall was given to Mr. Walter Shirlow. He 
chose "North" and "South" for his subject. His twa 



THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY. 273 

canvases were the largest of all, and he had room on 
them to give extended typical pictures of Northern and 
Southern life, framed in with arabesques containing, in 
cunning vignettes, episodes of the characteristic pur- 
suits and manners of the two great sections of our 
country. The scroll-work being painted in transparent 
colors on a gold ground, the effect was extremely rich 
and lustrous. On the centre-piece of the one canvas a 
couple of cotton steamers on the Mississippi come 
struggling along through the water, steering away 
from the dangerous snags in the foreground, — a twi- 
light scene; on the other a locomotive is pulling a 
train through the wild scenery of the Eocky Moun- 
tains; it is just stopping at a night-station. The daz- 
zling glare of the head-light illumines the track in front, 
while behind the moon is fighting its way through 
stormy clouds. 

The centre-piece on the opposite wall was the work 
of Mr. Frederick P. Vinton, of Boston. It was a 
graceful acknowledgment of the hospitalities extended 
to American artists by the Munich Academy, and was 
expressed by amusing combinations of the arms and 
attributes of Eavaria and the United States. " The 
little monk, or * Munich child,' as he is called, whose 
quaint little form is used as the Munich symbol, is 
seen standing on a beer-barrel, extending the hospi- 
tality of the city to America by offering her a glass of 
the famous beer, which she smilingly takes." Far in 
the dim distance were seen the pepper-box towers of 
the Cathedral, and beyond them the snow-capped Alps 
that half encircle the city. This painting was very 
popular with the guests, for all present could under- 
stand and appreciate its spirit to the full. 

" On either side of this were canvases which must 
have tried the skill of the artist, in composition, to the 
utmost. They were of the same height as the other 
decorations, but the architectural divisions of the room 
limited their width to about eighteen inches, — an 
awkward form, which the artist by skilful treatment 
made to appear not only original but exceedingly 
agreeable. Upon these were depicted scenes from the 



274 THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY. 

beginning and close of the century. One represented 
a small band of our New England fathers walking 
armed through the pine forest on a dull November 
day, perhaps on their way to church. In the fore- 
ground lurked a solitary Indian. It told well the story 
of the life and danger of our fathers in the more ex- 
posed frontier during the century before the founding 
of the republic. The other represented a street of an 
American city — perhaps the Centennial City — on the 
one hundredth birthday of the nation. I need not de- 
scribe it. It brought vividly to our minds the joyous 
old celebrations of our boyhood. The flags and fire- 
crackers were all there. The artist, William M. Chase, 
proved in these and his other two decorations what his 
friends all acknowledged before, — the universality of 
his genius." 

A single silk flag with its staff planted in a huge 
mound of moss and ferns and flowers, and with rich, 
dark foliage behind it, filled out the corner near the 
arch opening into the anteroom, where the platform 
for the musicians was built up. The decorations thus 
far were all stamped with a national character, as be- 
fitting the occasion which was celebrated. The great 
majority of the participants of the feast being artists, 
it was meet that some of the emblems should have 
reference to their particular calling. Mr. Vinton's 
painting formed, so to speak, the connecting link be- 
tween patriotism and art, and Mr. Chase gave full em- 
bodiment to the spirit of art by gracing the remaining 
wall with two panels, "Painting" and "Sculpture," 
which "caused much merriment, and were greatly ad- 
mired for their fine color and treatment. Both in the 
* painting' and the ^sculpture' we find the artist a 
chubby little nudity in distress. In one he has slipped 
upon a huge palette, and fallen upon his back into 
great heaps of color, and the remains of Prussian blue 
and red upon a certain rosy place mark the spot where 
must have been the first point of contact. In the other 
we discover an enraged little sculptor throwing cla}^ at 
a bust, which turns away its face in agony. They were 
painted upon gold and lighted up finely." 



THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY, 275 

An immense bronzed punch-bowl three feet in diam- 
eter, modelled by Frank Dengler and E. Keyser, of Bal- 
timore, rich in figurative design, completed the decora- 
tions. But this latter was more than a mere decoration. 
Standing on a pedestal covered with gold brocade and 
old velvet looped up with garlands of fruit, and with 
all the attributes of a bacchanalian feast heaped around 
it, a large orange-tree bending over it from behind with 
the rich-colored fruit gleaming through the green, a 
block of ice peeping out from the capacious bowl, with 
a battery of bottles and pyramids of sugar, half covered 
with flowers at its base, it formed a picture of still life 
equal in attractiveness to any of the others. 

The names of our artists (now so well known) who 
furnished the decorations, and who also took charge 
of putting them up, vouch for the brilliant manner in 
which everything was done. 

The elaborate menu cards, in brown and gold, as well 
as the invitation cards, were the work of Mr. Walter 
Shirlow. 

Over sixty gentlemen took part in the festivities, 
and enjoyed the excellent dinner from the famous 
kitchen of Detzer. After the usual toasts, appro- 
priate speeches were made by Professor E. P. Evans, 
by Mr. Vinton, and by Colonel J. M. Wilson, at 
that time United States consul at Nuremberg, and by 
others. It was expected of me that I should do some- 
thing in the speechifying way, too; so, knowing that 
others would do full justice to the patriotic character 
of the feast, I tried to say something connected with 
and suggested by the works of art around us, and with 
reference to the artistic ingredients of the assembly to 
whom we were indebted for all we enjoj^ed. When the 
bell of the Cathedral, just above us, had solemnly tolled 
twelve I gave vent ('' fully unprepared," of course) to 
the following effusion : 



Throughout our cherished land this golden day, 
In festive gatherings, with joyful tone, 

Columbia's sons their eager tribute pay 

To Liberty's first century, come — and gone. 



276 THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY. 

Just heaven fosters what is great and good ; 

The radiant maid that erst stepped on our shore 
Has budded now to luscious womanhood, 

Her charms enhanced as each year passes o*er. 

Our humble offerings at her feet we lay, 
And deem her present, — our exalted guest, 

Forgetful of the stormy, weary way 

That parts us from the land we love the best. 

But we are parted only by the tide 

That bore us from our brethren, for I ween 

In spirit we were with them, side by side, 

Though twenty oceans rolled their waves between. 

Our shores, our homes shall hear that we this day, 
Sojourners in a far but friendly land. 

Are no less fervent in our joy than they 

Who 'neath our starry banner's rustling stand. 

A hundred years are passed, — a volume one 

Of that great work, whose spreading leaves extend 

Across a continent ; it was begun 

Midst strife and gloom, but glorious is the end. 

How fair the picture offered to our view ! 

Its glowing colors strong and pure and bright; 
Its tones harmonious, and to nature true. 

Illumined by the western sun's broad light. 

And here I am reminded that I speak 

To artist friends, and \o\ing fn'enda of art/ 

For such, no pompous phrases need I seek ; 

Those words are best that best reflect the heart. 

Need I then pardon crave if I adapt 

The terms which painters in their converse use 

To clothe my homely thoughts ? — The mountains wrapt 
In sunny haze, their stony roughness lose. 

On the broad bosom of a new-found land 
Our patriot fathers the first outline drew 

Of the great picture which a century's hand 
Has now completed, — open to our view. 

With telling strokes the figures were drawn in. 
And bold and vigorous was the pencil's mark; 

The first conception midst the battle's din 

Was made, when all around seemed bleak and stark. 

But 'twas a composition well conceived. 

Well balanced in its mass of light and shade, 

Its heroes modelled well, and well relieved 

By the dark background which oppression made. 



THE CENTENNIAL FOURTH OF JULY, 277 

The first great care was, that the drawing true 

And perfect in all parts should be, before 
They took the brush in hand, for well they knew, 

The just and true endures for evermore. 

They knew what arduous work was to be done, 

They bared their arms to struggle 'gainst the flood. 

Their color-sketch was made at Lexington; 

They knew henceforth their deepest red was — blood. 

But they had iron nerves, their hearts were true, 
They looked to heaven to aid them in that hour ; 

From heaven they took the starry vault of blue. 
And set it as the key-note of their power. 

The virgin snow that soft its mantle winds 

On Cumberland's and Alleghany's heights 
Was emblem of the pureness of their minds. 

And gave the color for their highest lights. 

Their palette was the broad Atlantic's beach ; 

The colonies ranged round in varying hue, 
Each had its separate tone and power, and each 

Its separate interests, — holding to them true. 

But on the canvas they their tones must blend. 
Some warm, some cold, — to make a perfect whole 

One master-thought must through the work extend, 
And thirteen states must have one heart, one soul. 

That soul was liberty, — the eagle's sunward flight, 

The symbol of the freedom they adored. 
To their new bond our fathers gave their plight. 

And faith became the heart's controlling chord. 

So, year by year, through sunshine and through storm, 

Each generation did its loving part, 
And now, our second century's dawning morn 

Beholds the finished masterpiece of art. 

Our fervor is the varnish, which imparts 

Its lucent gloss to bring the colors out ; 
And forty million joyful, patriot hearts, 

— The golden frame that circles it about. 

The conclusion of the above was the signal for at- 
tacking the punch-bowl. Under the genial influence 
of its contents the proceedings of the night began to 
take a more informal character. The musicians com- 
menced giving livelier strains. The speeches and the 
toasts got to be more general in their themes. It was 

24 



278 AMERICAN ARTISTS' CLUB. 

proposed to drink to the success of the Art Academy 
of Munich; then the health of the American artists in 
Munich was drunk, and the toast was soon extended to 
include the American artists in Europe, and finally all 
American artists wherever they might be ; and when 
all these had been enthusiastically disposed of, came 
for consideration that noble class of people, "those who 
buy the pictures," — those who patronize art, and it was 
hoped that the honoring of that toast might embrace 
wishes for the health and welfare of the whole Ameri- 
can nation. 

As the morning advanced, and being now freed from 
musical restraint by the departure of the professional 
musicians, — the band, — the hours were enlivened by the 
singing of patriotic and other stirring songs besides 
those of a deeper tone and darker coloring, such as 
"Old Uncle Ned" and "Shoo Fly," thus giving a chiaro- 
oscuro of melody doubly enjoj^able to the painter. 

Everything was harmonious, everything was pleas- 
ant. There were gentlemen present from all parts of 
the United States, and each contributed his share to 
the sum of the enjoyment; and so the hours flow 
rapidly by, till all distinctly saw " by the dawn's early 
light what so proudly they hailed at the twilight's last 
gleaming," — the star-spangled banner, — the graceful 
folds of which were no longer illuminated by the now 
useless gas, but caught the first rosy beams of the 
rising sun. 

This genial Fourth of July celebration of the Ameri- 
can artists in Munich, uniting in good fellowship so 
many kindred spirits, is painted in bright colors in 
their memory and framed in their hearts, — a glowing 
picture of the patriotism which the American citizen 
loves to display in however remote a part of the earth 
he may be sojourning. 

The American Artists' Club, at the time of the cele- 
bration just mentioned, was not as old as our Fourth 
of July by some ninety-seven or ninety-eight years. 
Many attempts had been before made to form such a 
club, but somehow or other the thing was like a bubble, 



CONUNDRUMS, 279 

and always burst just as it was beginning to get 
brilliant. But the present club seems to have a good 
start now. As it is principally made up of young men 
who only stay at Munich for a few years, its member- 
ship is always changing, and that brings freshness to 
it. Many are the pleasant nights that have been spent 
there, many the festivities and varied performances 
that have taken place, many the sketches, caricatures, 
and comic illustrations that have been produced there, 
many the jokes and good sayings that have been made 
there. The artist, when he unbends, is always a cheery 
fellow. If there are professional jealousies between 
them, I do not believe they are as strong or as bitter 
as similar jealousies between colleagues in other walks 
of life. When they congregate at night this slight 
mantle, at any rate, is thrown from their shoulders. 
The cloud of smoke hanging through the room seems 
to wrap them together as with one common cover, and 
the beer-mugs on the table are the connecting link of a 
chain that binds them to each other. At such moments 
they take everything in good part, and their sound 
qualities of heart can be best understood by the public 
when it is known that they patiently, and without any 
thoughts of blood-shedding, suffered themselves to be 
inflicted with such artistic conundrums as the follow- 
ing : 

Why is a wicked giant with the jaundice like an 
indispensable color? Because it's a yellow ochre 
(ogre). 

What is the difference between a novel and vermil- 
ion ? One is light reading, the other is light red. 

Why is a certain powerful color like an intoxicated 
subject of the German emperor? Because it*s a Prus- 
sian blue. 

Why is painting with pomade instead of oil, to an 
artist, like a favorite dish to an epicure? Because it 
suits (suets) his palate. 

What beautiful but expensive color reminds you of 
a savage's war-whoop? Indian yellow (yell, oh!). 

If you pull Mr. Brown's nose and then kick him 
afterwards, what color does the second operation ro- 



280 CONUNDRUMS. 

mind you of? One makes Brown mad, but the other 
makes Brown madder. 

Why is a certain very bright color worth five hun- 
dred thousand times as much as modesty? Because 
one is a vir-tue (two) and the other is a ver-milion 
(million). 

What is the difference between self conceitedness 
and a donkey without a tail? One is a human fault 
and the other is an ass fault (asphalt). 

Why is a man who has a spell of vomiting just after 
sundown like a French drying-oil ? Because he's sick 
at eve (siccatif). 

Suppose a negro were to instigate another negro to 
commit the larceny of a bag of wheat, what French 
color would he name in saying it? Styl de grain 
(steal de grain). 

Why is a statue of Eve like the last popular song ? 
Because it's a nudity (new ditty). 

Why is painting a man's nose a shade too ruddy like 
a celebrated painter ? Because it*s a Tintoretto (tint 
too red, oh). 

What's the difference between a young miss and an 
old master? One's a dear, but the other's a dearer 
(Diirer). 

If four natives of Singapore sit down to play whist, 
why is it like an indispensable article for an artist? 
Because it's an Indian rubber. 

If a cat's natural enemy were roasted, what painter 
would the sauce put you in mind of? Sassoferrato 
(sauce of a rat, oh). 

Suppose an Irishman and one of our aborigines were 
to use the same living subject to paint from, why would 
it be like a miniature, new-principled locomotive, already 
protected by law ? Because it would be the model of a 
patent engine (Pat and Indian). 

(By our Irish contributor, most likely instigated by 
the above.) Why is claret dropping from a broken 
cask like a very fine color ? Because it's a crimson 
lake (leak). 

What is the difference between the season of lent 
and the interior of a Dutch ale-house? Because it 



PUNS AND SAYINGS. 281 

takes forty days to make the one, but it takes ten 
years (Teniers) to do the other. 

Why is the unfortunate fellow whose picture is 
rejected by the "salon" like a good shot at wild 
ducks ? Because he gets his canvas back, you know. 

It was hoped that the torture was here at an end, 
but the party who proposed the above startled us by 
making a new departure and asking, What drum can't 
be beat ? Nobody knew, of course, but himself, so he 
told us it was his last conun-drum. 

There was perfect quiet and order in the room. 

Not even satisfied with the foregoing, there were 
anecdotes, little passes at repartee, and specimens of 
word- maiming and pronunciation excruciating (some- 
times called punning), which — so hardy were the 
members — did not have the effect of scaring off the 
attendance. Here are a few of the sayings : 

It is always dangerous for our poor Indians to take 
a cold, because it is so likely to develop into a whoop- 
ing cough. 

A young fellow being introduced at a party to 
several young ladies each of whose names happened to 
be Mary, was smitten on the instant with tbe last one 
presented to him, and, as a compliment, compared her 
to honesty. On her blushingly asking him for an 
explanation he answered, " Because you are the best 
Poll I see.'^ 

One of the fellows wanted to know whether we 
knew why Mark Twain was likely to be the most 
fortunate man at a lottery. " Because," he said, " in 
buying his numbers he was very sure to draw all 
(drawl)." 

At a breakfast where only Jews happened to be 
present was a certain rosy leg of pork, of which none 
of them would partake : why was it like the Prince of 
Denmark's soliloquy? Because it was Hamlet alone 
(ham let alone). 

Why are the police reports in the daily papers like 
a boarding-house chicken? Because it is all sinews 
(sin news). 

24* 



282 PUNS AND SAVINGS. 

" Happy to meet a colleague," as the hangman said 
when he adjusted the noose under the culprit's ear. 
" How so?" said the man. " Because you're in my line, 
— don't you see?" 

Conversation turned on politics, and some one gravely 
asked who we thought was the coming man. There was 
some diversity of opinion, which he settled by saying 
that the coming (combing) man was the hairdresser. 
Nothing happened to the gentleman in question that 
night: he was not even waylaid when he went home. 

Mrs. Jarj ingle, who has written some sweet lines, and 
whose command of language is something wonderful, 
on being pressed by a young publisher to give her 
effusions to the world, modestly consented, but she did 
not want to sign her real name to them ; she said she 
would rather ^'have them published unanimously." 

A doctor once said he hadn't time to take part in a 
projected excursion, because he had a number of grave 
cases to attend to. Somebody remarked that he was 
afraid all Dr. A 's cases were grave cases. 

The pre- vailing style of dress, that of Adam and Eve 
before the fall. 

We don't know why artists should feel hurt when 
their pictures are "skyed," — they should feel flattered 
that their works are thus stamped as belonging to 
high art. 

Aunt Mary to little Johnny, who has smashed up 
his new hobby-horse with the kitchen cleaver, " Why, 
dear me, Johnny, what have you been and done ?" 
" Oh, nothin', auntie ; pap said yesterday the best horse 
wasn't worth anything unless it was well broken." 

Yery weak punch reminds one of the fonts at the 
entrance of the Catholic churches, — it seems to be 
wholly water. 

In spite of the foregoing conundrums and sayings, 
the club still exists. 



ART. 283 



CHAPTEE XIX. 

Art — Circular from Department of State — Results of the circular — The Re- 
ports published by the Department — Deluge of letters to consuls — My 
report — To take off all duty on works of art — Despatch of April 12, 1878 
— American goods being slowly introduced — American toys in Bavaria 
— Our tools — American versus German hammers — Characteristics of 
our productions — Our weakness in attempts to decorate — Definition of 
ornament — Ornamentation of the hair — Helps to nature — Ornament 
must express a function — Its laws must be studied — Inborn feeling for 
art in the American — Our ships, carriages, etc. — Art forms in common 
implements — What art form in a machine? — Flowers and weeds — 
The intent to ornament and decorate — We do not know what original- 
ity means — Schools for teaching art — Art must be seriously studied — 
One step our government can take — Take off duty on works of art — 
Facilities for seeing works of art facilitate art — Art must be made 
more popular — Our tariff is for protection — Artists in different lines 
not equally protected — Artists not pecuniarily benefited — Americans 
will not buy foreign landscapes — We cannot have galleries of old masters 
— Are musicians and authors protected ? — Where and when Americans 
purchase — Importation of foreign art works will increase — American 
artists will sell better— New tariff bill of March 3, 1883— Protests 
from American artists — Americans at Munich Academy — Number of 
prizes. 

AET. 

I SAID in the beginning that I would not write 
anything about art. The reader must not be startled 
by the heading of this chapter nor accuse me of 
inconsistency. I merely meant in the first chapter 
that I would not let myself be led into any criticism 
on art or on Munich painters or paintings. I simply 
wish to say a few words here on art encouragement, 
and in its connection with our country and the fetters 
which our country has seen fit to shackle it with. But 
in order to get on the track I must take tlie reader a 
rather roundabout road, which, however, is necessary 
for the bettor understanding of what I am trying to 
aim at. 

In August, 1877, the Secretary of State sent a 
circular to the Diplomatic and Consular oliicers an 
follows : 



284 CIRCULAR FROM DEPARTMENT OF STATE, 

" Department of State, 
'^Washington, August, 1877. 

" To the'Consul of the United States at . 

"Sir, — Under the provisions of section 208 of the 
Eevised Statutes and of paragraphs 380, 381, and 382 
of the Consular Eegulations, the Representatives of 
the United States in foreign countries are instructed to 
transmit to the Department such commercial informa- 
tion and statistics as they respectively obtain, in order 
to enable the Secretary of State to prepare the annual 
reports upon the commercial relations of the United 
States which the laws authorize him to make. 

" Besides the general information thus to be com- 
piled, there is another and more specific line of inquiry 
to which the Department now desires to invite your 
attention. 

'^ It is believed that the period has now arrived when 
it would be wise for the nations not only of this conti- 
nent, but also of Europe, to consider more carefully 
than heretofore how they may best enlarge their trade 
with this country. The United States are in a condi- 
tion to supply, cheapl}^ and easily, many products and 
manufactured articles suitable to the wants of the dif- 
ferent countries, receiving in return natural products 
and articles of manufacture which can be utilized and 
consumed here. A favorable opportunity for the de- 
velopment of such trade would seem to be now offered 
by the prevailing stagnation of business and depres- 
sion of prices. It is desirable, of course, for the United 
States that they should find markets for the export of 
their products and manufactures, and on the other 
hand, it is advantageous to the people of other coun- 
tries that they should be able to purchase at the present 
decreased valuation. 

" In view of these considerations, it is desired by the 
Department that its Diplomatic and Consular officers 
should devote attention to the question of methods by 
which trade with the United States can be most judi- 
ciously fostered. Without seeking to interfere with any 
commercial operations or enterprises that may now be 
in existence, it is, nevertheless, deemed highly probable 



RESULTS OF THE CIRCULAR. 285 

that you may be able, by examination and inquiry, to 

point out branches of trade with in which the 

United States may properly and usefully share. You 
are instructed, therefore, to make such examination at 
your convenience, and to advise the Department, when 
suitable occasion shall offer, as to the demand for dif- 
ferent products and manufactured articles now used in 

, their nature and prices whenever they are such 

as it is probable the industry of the United States can 

supply. Also as to the products of in which the 

trade with the United States could be increased, either 
by legislative or executive action or by commercial en- 
terprise. 

" The inquiry here suggested should not be hastily 
made, nor is it expected that it will be rapidly accom- 
plished. It is rather the purpose of the Department 
that it shall be continuous, and that you should from 
time to time communicate to the government such in- 
formation as it may be in your power to acquire in this 
direction, in order that it may be laid before Congress 
and the general public. 
" I am, sir, 

*^ Your obedient servant, 

"F. W. Seward, 
" Acting Secretary'^ 

This bait, which was to catch the custom of the 
whole world and which was distributed among the 
consuls to put on their individual hooks, emanated 
from the fertile brain of William M. Evarts. It is very 
probable the success of our Centennial Exhibition had 
something to do with the formulating of the idea. At 
any rate, great credit was given to our then Secretary 
of State by all our merchants and manufacturers (who 
were ultimately to be the gainers by it) for the step ho 
took. 

The consuls went fishing with a will. Many were 
the lines that were thrown out into the stagnant 
waters of foreign needs to catch orders for our ])rod- 
ucts, and many were the lines sent in to the State De- 
partment in response (not figuratively this time, as 



286 THE REPORTS PUBLISHED, 

the piles of manuscript there preserved can testify). 
Nearly every consul sent a reply in due course of time 
to the above circular, and gave all the information in 
his power, and all suggestions to which his experience 
or his ingenuity prompted him. Many of these reports 
contained valuable matter; many contained nothing 
that was new ; and many were, of course, repetitions 
of what others had already written, but almost all con- 
curred in the opinion that the three quarters of the be- 
nighted world lying outside the limits of the United 
States were in burning need of our wares, and would 
prove a perfect El Dorado for our manufacturers and 
producers if they could only succeed in making those 
wares better known abroad. There was not an article 
under the sun (our sun) that would not then be eagerly 
grasped after by those backward foreigners, and un- 
told gold was to flow into the pockets of our people. 

These reports were published by the State Depart- 
ment, — some in full, some only in part; they were 
eagerly reproduced by all the export, commercial, man- 
ufacturers', and trade journals which are devoted to the 
interests of our commerce — and of their own columns. 
There was a sudden demand for such journals, and the 
editors were jubilant, and they thought the movement 
a most important one and considered these reports a 
boon to the country. The daily papers printed extracts 
from the reports, longer or shorter, according to their 
necessities. It is natural that many comments were 
made on these consular effusions. Some of the New 
York papers tried to poke fun at the rose-colored views 
with which many of them were tainted ; other jour- 
nals gave full credit to the labor that had been ex- 
pended on them. 

Soon after the publication of these reports there was 
a perfect boom of letters and circulars and catalogues 
and price-lists which swooped down on the devoted 
heads of our consuls, thick as the falling leaves of au- 
tumn. It was expected that the consuls should put 
our sellers in direct correspondence or connection with 
the foreign purchasers ; it was supposed that they had 
the facilities for at once opening up the new channels 



DUTY ON WORKS OF ART. 287 

to our trade which they had so strongly recommended. 
There was no want of soft sawder in some of these 
epistles, intended as a tickler to consular vanity in 
order to bring about a speedy compliance with the 
wishes of the writer. Some parties, in their innocence, 
even offered a percentage on the profits, seemingly 
ignorant of the fact that consuls are prohibited from 
unnecessarily augmenting the wealth that accrues to 
them from their splendid salaries by any such sordid 
means. 

I am satisfied that every ofiicer abroad did his best 
to bring about the ends the Department had in view. 
Whether the results were as overwhelming as many 
sanguine spirits were led to believe they would be, I 
leave for others to investigate. 

Being a conscientious consul, and a circular coming 
soon afterwards saying what dreadful things would be 
done to consuls who did not comply with the Depart- 
ment's instructions, I also wrote a report. It was a 
lengthy report, — for we are not stinted in stationery, 
and do not have to give vouchers for the postage 
accounts. I at least tried to give such information 
as I thought would be most useful. My report was 
only partially published, — perhaps on account of want 
of space in the volume which was to appear on the 
subject, — perhaps because the Congressional appropria- 
tion did not reach to carry it out to the end, — perhaps 
because the Department did not think it worth pub- 
lishing in full. 1 should not have been dissatisfied with 
the curtailment if it had only been made at the right 
end ; but, unfortunately, the part to which I attached 
the least importance was printed, and the latter part, 
which contained quite a startling suggestion, was taken 
no notice of. 

This latter part was nothing less than a recommen- 
dation to take off all duty on works of art^ — to discontinue 
the protection given to American artists. 

That my reasoning may be better understood, it is 
necessary for me to give the substance of that despatch, 
which was dated April 12, 1878, condensing it as much 
as I possibly can. Many of the points have but little 



288 AMERICAN GOODS IN BAVARIA. 

interest for the general reader, and I shall merely refer 
to them for the sake of the connection. 

One of the chief difficulties in replying to the De- 
partment's circular from a place like Munich, which is 
neither a manufacturing nor a commercial town, was 
to avoid giving useless repetitions of what other consuls 
at more important places in Germany were sure to 
write. Very able papers had been sent in by some of 
my colleagues, and it was only left for me to concur 
generally in the views therein expressed by them. I 
was obliged, therefore, to limit my remarks in that 
connection to my own consular district, or, at most, to 
Bavaria. I thought it of importance, in the com- 
mencement, to take into consideration the degree in 
which our manufactures and products had already ad- 
vanced in the estimation of foreign customers. 

Bavaria, I wrote, being rather an agricultural than 
a commercial country, and being an inland state, it is 
natural that new articles from foreign countries should 
be more slowly and less directly introduced than into 
states bordering on the sea and having an extensive 
outside trade. I noticed with gratification that for the 
last ten years or so our manufactures and products 
had been gradually finding their way into Bavaria. 
Before that time it was a rare thing to meet with any 
American article exposed for sale. There was a prej- 
udice against our wares, arising most probably from 
the fact that they were still so little known to the 
mass of the people. I then enumerated the articles I 
had seen successively introduced into the shops of 
Munich and other Bavarian cities: American ham- 
mers, hatchets, and axes, spades and shovels, hay- and 
manure-forks, planes, augers, braces and bits, hand 
grindstones, washing- and wringing-machines, patent 
boot-jacks and corkscrews, and those numerous and 
ingenious trifles known as Yankee notions, canned 
vegetables and meats and fruit, lobsters and oysters, 
all kinds of agricultural machines (which serve as 
models for nearly all those that are made in Germany), 
and the ubiquitous sewing-machine, which is an indis- 
pensable article in every household here as it is at home. 



AMERICAN GOODS IN BAVARIA, 289 

But what was most surprising was that American 
toys should be sent across the ocean into the very 
heart of that country which, for so many centuries, 
has furnished playthings for the children of every part 
of the world. It seems indeed strange that in Bavaria, 
in whose ancient city of Nuremberg — still walled and 
moated — the treasures of childhood were in former 
years almost exclusively made, American toys should 
be encroaching on the time-honored figures which 
were wont to delight us and our fathers and our fathers* 
fathers for long generations back. First, I had seen 
our toy steam-engines, then patent building-blocks, 
then our endless variety of mechanical toys and puz- 
zles, until "John Gilpin" and " Funny Fellows" have 
become as regularly a part of the stock here as they 
are with us.* Twenty years before that time our 
india-rubber toys were the only ones I had ever seen 
in an}^ part of Germany. 

A description of the annual agricultural exhibitions 
which are held at Munich here followed in my report, 
with remarks on the American machines, implements, 
and tools there displayed ; and in concluding that part 
of the paper I gave a general list of all the articles of 
American manufacture which I thought, if properly in- 
troduced, might find an extended and remunerative 
market in Bavaria. 

I drew particular attention to our tools, especially 
for carpenters and others who work in wood. Many 
years before, I had often spoken to hardware mer- 
chants and mechanics on the subject and urged them 
to make a trial of our tools, for those used here are of 
very inferior material, roughly made, of clumsy shape, 
and continually breaking; wearing out very quickly, 
and getting dull with little work, thereby taking up 
much time in keeping them sharp. This branch of our 
manufactures seemed a ver}^ important one to mo, 
because I was convinced of the superiority of our tools 
over those of — I may say — almost any other nation. 



*It is almost noodless to saj that all these artiolos were soon olumsilj 
copied by Qerman manufaoturors. 

N t 25 



290 AMERICAN GOODS IN BAVARIA. 

On visiting our Centennial Exhibition this fact was 
again made apparent to me. Other visitors were also 
struck by the same thing. Professor Seelhorst, of 
Nuremberg, was so thoroughly convinced of the superi- 
ority of our tools that he took a complete collection of 
them with him on his return to his native country, 
and exhibited them all over Bavaria and other parts 
of Germany, and gave lectures on their uses and 
advantages. 

One can judge of the qualities of a workman by the 
look of his tools. A lazy workman is not so particular 
about having his tools of the very best : he is afraid 
they might lead him into doing too much work; but a 
good workman who has good and reliable tools takes a 
pride in them, and takes a pride in showing that he is 
master of them and in showing what he can do with 
them. And it is certainly true that a good w^orkman 
will accomplish nearly twice as much with good tools 
as with bad ones. 

In making a comparison between German and Amer- 
ican tools, I need only take the simplest as an example. 
Look at the ordinary German hammer; it is somewhat 
of a pig-headed instrument, always going the wrong 
way, — turning in the hand, and not striking fair and 
flat on the object. The head is mostly convex, gliding 
off from the nail when struck and knocking it over 
sideways ; the handle is either too short, or too light 
or too heavy for the head, and is roughly finished, and 
both the iron and the wood used are generally of the 
poorest quality. It takes great practice (accompanied 
Mnth an accumulation of black thumb-nails and still 
blacker words) to handle such a hammer effectively. 
The American hammer, on the contrary, is quite a dif- 
ferent tool. The head is shapely, truly made, and of 
the best metal (the Germans think any old iron is good 
enough for a hammer), — the handle is of wood almost 
as tough and strong as the iron itself, cleanly finished, 
and made exactly to fit the hand. Our hammers are 
so well balanced, that in taking one up one feels how it 
immediately falls into the grip, how it has just the 
right swing, and how the head comes down parallel 



AMERICAN PRODUCTIONS. 291 

with the surface it is striking with a sharp, elastic 
stroke. It is not necessary to make further com- 
parisons. I have alluded to the above as a single in- 
stance, but in all our tools the same care in the finish, 
the same accuracy of the model, and the same elegance 
of shape is everywhere apparent. 

My remarks as to what changes might be made in 
the shape of many of our tools and machines to suit 
the prejudices and to conform to the traditions of 
German workmen in order to make them more salable 
in Germany, are not in place here. It is evident that 
such alterations could be made in many articles with- 
out their losing thereby their good qualities or their 
handiness. Even so competent an authority as Mr. 
Gladstone, the eminent tree-feller and statesman, 
praised our axes, pronouncing the hickory handle 
excellent, — yet he wished it were cut straight across 
at the end at a right angle to its axis, as he had alwaj^s 
been accustomed to having it. 

It will have struck every one who visited our Cen- 
tennial Exhibition at Philadelphia, where the best 
opportunities for making comparisons were given, that 
our own productions generally displayed a strength 
of material coupled with the utmost lightness of form, 
— a compactness of parts and an elegance of finish not 
surpassed by those of any other nation ; these are the 
qualities that make our machines and our manufactured 
articles popular and commend them to the attention of 
all foreigners. 

The American workman is neat and quick in his 
work ; he is apt at catching an idea and practical in 
carrying it out. He is not slow to discard an old 
method when a newer and better one suggests itself. 
He applies himself to supply the popular want, and 
his ingenuity also leads him to invent articles which 
soon create for themselves a demand. Wherever 
manual dexterity or the marvellous working of tho 
labor-saving machine can come into play, there are few 
articles which cannot be made in the United States as 
well as elsewhere. Indeed, it is astonishing to what 



292 DECORATIONS. 

perfection we have brought the manufacture of many 
articles which have been for years, for centuries even, 
the specialties of certain countries, — which have been 
the heirlooms of their genius, — which have been 
wrapped in the jealous mystery of a family or of a 
national protection. 

It is natural that, in every new country, only after 
the first actual wants of the people are supplied can 
attention be given to what promotes our comfort or 
adds to our enjoyment. The embellishments of life 
come when its necessities have been supplied. 

The immense expanse of our country and the high 
rate of wages are the factors which have created the 
ingenious labor-saving machinery used in the produc- 
tion of all our staple articles. The natural treasures 
of our land supply the best of materials for the making 
of these machines, and money being more equally 
distributed with us than is the case in other nations, 
the demands for the fruits of our people's ingenuity 
are also more general than elsewhere. We are thus 
enabled to supply our own wants in all that is needful 
and useful, and to send the surplus of such wares and 
products to other countries, where there is an ever- 
increasing demand for them. But when we come to 
look at the luxuries and elegancies of life, and the 
objects of art that surround us, we must make the 
mortifying confession that they are almost all imported. 

As far as good workmanship, solidity, fine finish, 
are concerned, as far as adaptability and practicability 
are concerned in the making of an article, we can 
hold our own with any nation ; but when we go be- 
yond this, when we seek to give the useful a decorative 
dress, when we attempt to add the charm of ornament 
to our work, there we show our weakness. There we 
must yield the palm to all the nations of Europe. 

There is a great difference between the logical appli- 
cation of artistic forms to articles which, even without 
such application, would fulfil the purposes for which 
they are designed, and the decoration of the same to 
make them appear of more value. 

I once heard ornament defined as " the characteristic 



ORNAMENTATION OF THE HAIR. 293 

expression of a certain function," and I take that 
definition to be correct. At the present day, when so 
man}^ persons are dabbling in art, and, in fact, with all 
persons who do not know exactly what they are 
about, the tendency is to give extravagant contour to 
every article, and to plaster over everything they have 
a hand in with figurative devices either in lines or 
in colors, or in relief, or in indentation, which are 
intended as adornments. 

There can be no aesthetic objection to making any- 
thing as rich as possible, — to lavish on an article the 
treasures of color, form, and material wherever we 
have the means to do so. But the thing must be 
understood, — we must know where to place our gems, 
and why we so place them. Not knowing this, we put 
the wrong things where the right things should be, or, 
oftener, we put these parts where there should be 
no decoration at all, — where the distinctive form of the 
object itself should be left to speak its purpose. 

I think no one would quarrel with a woman for 
trying to arrange her hair in the manner most becom- 
ing to her. If she be imbued with artistic taste, and 
she does not allow her hands to be shackled by the 
mere demands of fashion, she will work in the lines 
and group the masses so as best to harmonize with her 
features, with the form of her head, and with her 
figure, so as to throw shadows where such shadows 
serve to bring out into stronger relief the brightness 
of the skin ; she will make use of a flower, or a ribbon, 
or a jewel of that color which by contrast would 
most enhance the natural color and glossiness of her 
hair. I believe God, when he gave the finishing touch 
to the human form, purposely left the hair soft and 
pliable, and without sensation, that some part of our 
body, at least, might be under our direct control, that 
we might have freedom to exercise our fancy in its 
arrangement, — to give thereby an expression to our 
individuality, and to help in softening blemishes, which, 
alas, but few of Eve's children are without. Hero 
we have, on our own bodies, a legitimate field for orna- 
mentation. 

26* 



294 HELPS TO NATURE, 

Even if a woman, who lacks the natural charms of a 
pure skin and rosy cheeks, assists nature by applying 
color artificially to her countenance, — provided she fully 
understands the art, — can there be, aesthetically con- 
sidered,* any absurdity in her so doing? But when 
we take the case of the Indian, who daubs his face with 
various bright colors in crude patterns and hideous 
contrasts, the thing is barbarous, — revolting. In the 
case of the lady, — she merely wishes to supply what 
through some infirmity of the blood or the lungs or 
the liver (or some other organ or fluid which a doctor 
would be better able to name) has been denied her. 
She merely wishes to indicate the functions which her 
skin would have in a healthful state ; and beauty is 
healthfulness. It is at least the right thing in the 
right place. But in the case of the savage, — he is put- 
ting things where they never belonged, where they 
have no normal meaning, where they are made to hide 
functions that should be expressed. 

And so it is with ornament. All ornament must ex- 



^' We are generally educated in our strict schools of propriety to look 
npcn anything artificial in the make-up of our bodies as affected, ignoble, 
sinful. But surely, if a person have the misfortune to lose his hair or his 
teeth, is it not his duty towards his fellow-men to try as far as it is in the 
power of art to do so to hide these defects by the purchase of a well- 
made wig, or by the insertion of artificial incisors? We have indeed 
become accustomed to look upon a bald pate on a man as the result of 
great brain-power and energy, and as the stamp of an intellect that has 
been driven to its utmost capacity by serious, powerful, and unremitting 
brain-labor; but after all, the falling out of the hair is only the result 
of a disease, more or less prevalent in all countries, but certainly none 
the more beautiful on that account. There are lots of women that think 
as hard and work as much with their brains as men, and yet we don't 
like to see bald-headed women, — and we rarely do see them. 

We are prejudiced against women's painting principally from a med- 
ical point of view (because so many injurious substances are offered to 
them for that purpose), and also from a nursery point of view, for we 
have, from our infancy onward, heard the practice held up to us as a crime 
by those who either, honestly, had no need for calling in art to their aid, 
or by those who for all the world would have liked to indulge, but were 
only deterred therefrom through the fear of being found out and 
ridiculed. And there lies the secret which has already been hinted at, — 
the difficulty of applying the art so that it seems no art. Where nature 
requires a little helping in the cause of comeliness, there is no wrong 
done in giving such help. The palpable smearing of the face merely as 
a matter of fashion is a very reprehensible custom. 



ART IN THE AMERICAN. 295 

press the function of the part to which it is applied. 
Decoration is of a secondary nature, and must always 
be held in subordination. The art of decoration can 
never be understood until we are fully versed in the 
science of ornamentation, and ornamentation is the 
artistic exponent of strength, force, support, expanse, 
extension, and connection symbolized by representa- 
tions of natural things (more or less realistically char- 
acterized) or of ideal figures. 

Granting that ornamentation is a science, it follows 
that its laws must be studied. It is true that some 
few people have to a certain extent an innate cognition 
of the proprieties of ornament, yet a knowledge of its 
principles must be acquired before its application can 
be brought to correctness. We generally find that 
where any form grows out of the requirements of use 
or actual necessity, it is, in itself,— without any attempt 
on the part of its creator to make it so, — graceful and 
.beautiful. But even in such cases the characteristics 
of different nations make themselves apparent in their 
unconscious expression of the fitness of form. It would 
lead too far in such a book as this to take into consid- 
eration the feelings which moved the ancient Greeks in 
forming the beautiful vases of the early period. They 
were without schooling: it was the uses to which their 
vases were to be put that guided instinctively the hand 
in giving them their distinctive, rational, and graceful 
outline. Greece was a nation of born artists, and the 
artistic instinct developed itself b}^ degrees into that 
perfection of art which has left its works as models for 
all succeeding generations. 

It may seem paradoxical to say so, yet I believe that 
the matter-of-fact American, looking only to the ac- 
complishment of an object without any waste of labor 
or material upon it, possesses something akin to the 
genius of the early Greeks in often giving, unbeknown 
to himself, beautiful forms to whatever is demanded by 
stern necessity. The art-spirit is latent, — it is crude, 
— but it is there. Let me refer, for instance, to our 
naval architecture. The problem here is to build ves- 
sels which with the greatest strength shall combine 



296 AMERICAN SHIPS, CARRIAGES, ETC 

the qualities which give them the greatest speed. To 
obtain speed two factors are necessary, — power to drive 
the ship (that is, either by means of inward and con- 
cealed machinery, or by the expanse of sail presented 
to the wind), and, secondly, the shaping of the hull so 
that as little resistance as possible may be offered to 
the water in passing through it, and that the displaced 
water rushing back on either side and meeting again 
behind may serve to give the ship a fresh impulse for- 
wards. Now, I do not suppose that any of our naval 
architects have studied art, or that they have had any 
ideal forms in their minds when drawing the hull or 
the other parts. They have merely studied the physi- 
cal principles which when applied to the shaping of the 
hull, the raking of the masts, and the spread of the sail, 
would give the greatest speed to the ship, and they 
have made their drawings accordingly. Yet see into 
what grand lines of grace they have unwittingly been 
led. Our ships and boats, both large and small, have a 
majestic beauty of form, a subtle fineness of lines, an 
ele^gance of proportions which have not been reached 
by the builders of other nations. 

In our vehicles of all kinds, the great strength, tough- 
ness, and elasticity of our woods have made it possible 
to construct them much lighter than elsewhere, and this 
lightness of construction has necessitated the utmost 
simplification of all the parts. But in making the con- 
structional connections our builders by instinct fall into 
lines and proportions that are generally beautiful. The 
same result is brought about in our machinery. The 
framework which has to support the whole (enclosing an 
axle here, encasing a wheel there, — at all parts sinu- 
ously winding along, — making way for a shaft at one 
place, escaping a crank at another place, going in and 
out, so that every moving part may have full play, but 
not giving an inch more room than necessary) shows 
lines as intricate as the branching of trees and roots, — 
and as graceful. Some parts require great strength, and 
a consequent greater bulk of material must be given 
there ; other parts have lighter work to do, and in such 
the material is reduced to its utmost limits of lightness. 



ART-FORM IN COMMON IMPLEMENTS. 297 

The builder of the machine endeavors in his way to em- 
phasize both the extra strength he has given to certain 
parts and the saving of material wherever slenderness is 
admissible. Here again, without having any artistic 
object in view, the machine-builder unconsciously gives 
proportions which have the elements of grace in them, 
because the parts in their size and in their forms bear 
the just and necessarj^- relationship to each other. 

Even in some of our most common implements, in 
the handles of our tools, for instance (look at our 
ploughs, our scythes and cradles), because they are 
made to fit the hand and the swing of the body, we see 
lines that are eminently beautiful in their undulations. 

I am inclined to think that even in the handwriting 
of our people, as distinguished from that of other na- 
tions, we see expressed an inherent feeling for graceful 
lines, which, I make bold to say, may also be taken as a 
proof of the assertion before made, that the American 
possesses art-spirit, but that it is, as yet, undeveloped, 
uncultivated, and unperceived by himself. 

There are doubtless many people who will be dis- 
posed to think that the views just expressed are very 
extreme views, and, with a doubting smile, might ask 
what art-forms one can possibly see in a machine. 
To such I answer that we are accustomed to pass by 
many things in nature without being struck by their 
beauty, simply because we look for beauty only in 
those objects which have been traditionally held up to 
us as objects to admire. From childhood up we have 
been taught to admire flowers, but we pass by weeds 
or trample them under foot, seeing no beauty in them. 
I am aware that this comparison is not in all respects a 
favorable one, for in the case of flowers, their fragrance 
and their greater expanse of vivid colors have much to 
do in making them esteemed by us ; they appeal so di- 
rectly to the senses that their qualities are understand- 
able by every one ; the babe before it leaves its mother's 
knee clutches at them eagerly and holds them afloc- 
tionately in its chubby fist; it loves flowers before it is 
taught to admire them. 

But if we take the trouble to examine the despised 



298 ORIGINALITY. 

weeds of the field we will discover as exquisite grace 
in their forms, and often as beautiful gradations 
of color as in the proudest garden flowers. Indeed, 
most of the ornaments used by the Greeks in their 
architecture, in their vases and candelabrums, are but 
the typified forms of the commonest wild plants. 

So in all objects made b}- man, we are accustomed to 
look for beauty only in such as address themselves di- 
rectly to the senses, — in such that he has endeavored 
to make beautiful. 

I now come to the consideration of the point which 
has led to the above explanation, — the intent^ the effort to 
ornament and decorate. If I have maintained that the 
American evinces a certain subtlety of feeling in the 
artistic expression of what is necessary and indispensa- 
ble, I can assert that he is all afloat when he openly 
attempts to embellish or enrich his work. 

I have a collection of photographs and drawings of 
furniture, organs, clocks, silverware, etc. I might call 
it my "chamber of horrors," only that it happens 
to be a portfolio. When I open it I am taken aback 
at the uncouthness of the designs, the crudity of the 
drawing, the want of elegance and justness of propor- 
tion, the non-appreciation of fitness of detail, and the 
misapplication of architectural forms there so aff'ront- 
ingly staring at me. 

We seek to be original, but we hardly know what 
originality means. The world has been rolling on its 
axis too many thousand years not to have taught us 
that to the principles of art we can scarcely hope to 
add anything new, yet we hear people prating to this 
day about the founding of an American style of archi- 
tecture, for instance, — just as if any style could be 
made to command, — when we ought to know that the 
distinguishing characteristics of architecture in differ- 
ent periods and diff'erent countries onlj^ grew gradually 
out of what had been before. The so-called styles of 
architecture are but the difl^crent languages in which 
the same idea is clothed, — the idea of support and 
extension. It only depends on the soundness of 
the principles and the correctness of the language in 



ORIGINALITV. 299 

which they are expressed, whether the architecture is 
good or bad. This much is certain, that in all good 
architecture we never see the forms of vegetable 
or animal life, when applied to constructional parts, 
realistically given, but they are always translated into 
the typical idioms of stone, or wood, or metal. Jeffer- 
son was a good man, a great man, a statesman and a 
patriot, but he did not understand anything about 
architecture when he proposed that for American 
buildings, in the capitals of our columns and elsewhere, 
we should use the tobacco-leaf and the corn-stalk, and 
other plants indigenous to our soil, in their naturalistic 
forms, so that the most uneducated should immediately 
recognize them as such. There would be no harm in 
making use of our plants as suggestions for architec- 
tural ornament, if we prefer them to others, but they 
must be treated in the same way as the Greeks and all 
good artists who followed them treated theirs. It is 
not presumed that the Greeks selected the acanthus- 
leaf because any national association was connected 
with it ; they merely did so because they saw in that 
class of plants the elements of grace and strength 
which, modified in form, mid grouped round the core 
of the capital, served to symbolize the supporting of 
the liglit abacus (for the core of the capital itself is 
the supporting member between column and archi- 
trave) and to express the termination — the crowning — 
of vertical support and the transition of that to the 
horizontal support of the architrave, whose functions 
must be indifferently characterized. In the Doric 
capital, the colored ornamentation of the echinus was 
nothing more than the type of some leaf bent over by 
the weight above it (for here the abacus was massier 
and heavier) and turning inwards till its point met its 
stem again. This idea of a supposed duty on our part 
of striking out into an original, a national line of art 
(in any of its branches), as long as we are on our 
present art footing, is baneful in its consequences. It 
would be best to give up all such theories of a ^' new 
departure" in art! We might as well attempt to make 
a new language on the spur of the moment. The 



300 SCHOOLS FOR TEACHIYG ART. 

English dictionary is a big book, and contains all that 
is necessary for us with which to express our thoughts 
and ideas, and more than any one single man could 
possibly want during the longest life — and if he lived 
to be as old as Methuselah. The principles of art are 
just as firmly established as the words of our language, 
and the typical expressions of art which we already 
possess are sufficient for the uses and purposes of any 
nation, and of all nations, for all time; but these 
expressions must be studied, — they must be understood 
before we are able to make use of them properly. 

Before we can turn out intelligent artists (I use the 
word in its broadest sense) we must have schools for 
teaching art. 

The subject of industrial art education occupies the 
attention of almost all the nations of Europe, and 
governmental support is given to it, and the fact is 
acknowledged that in fostering the arts and in dissem- 
inating art education, a nation increases its wealth and 
its importance. We, in our country, cannot expect 
governmental support to be given in this direction, but 
our States, at least, should make generous appropria- 
tions for such purposes. The good fruits will not be 
found wanting. When we are able to do ^s well, 
artistically, as we can now do materially, there will be 
an eager market in all countries not only for our 
useful and necessary articles, but for such articles also 
as minister to our enjoyment, — for such articles as 
appeal to the senses. 

A great deal is being done already in many of our 
larger cities for the encouragement of industrial art, 
and for the furthering of art education and for the 
dissemination of art knowledge, and it is earnestly to 
be hoped that these efforts will not relax, but that they 
may in time take deep root, and thus develop art 
education into a permanent institution. We must not 
be misled by the apparent zeal which our people have dis- 
played for art work for the last few years. It is more an 
art craze than an honest thirsting for art with the masses. 
It is a thing of fashion, which in its turn will give way 
to the next new occupation that is brought out to kill 



SCHOOLS FOR TEACHING ART. 301 

the time of the idle or to furnish easy pocket-money 
to those who are not entirely dependent on it for their 
existence. But no matter what the present abuses 
of our art schools and art classes are, they afford an 
opportunity for learning to those who are really 
earnest. The ranks will soon be thinned by the 
falling off of those who have taken up the thing in 
play, and there will then be ample room for those who 
honestly wish to work. We already bear complaints 
on the part of directors and teachers of art schools 
that the students sneak off one after another because 
they find that they do not get on as quickly as they 
expected ; they are unwilling to go through the drudg- 
ery of elementary study ; they are impatient of 
mounting step by step, — they want to jump a whole 
flight at once. They want to draw the relief before 
they have a correct idea of what a contour is, they 
want to use the brush before they have learned to 
handle the pencil, they want to make compositions 
before they have studied any of the parts. Thank 
fortune, there is no help for such people. Art is not 
to be tampered with. Art is of slow growth, and to 
bring out its flowers it must be nurtured with soulful, 
unremitting care : it dare not be slighted. 

Those who would tread the higher paths of art must 
take to her, not as to an easy mistress, to fondle on her 
bosom only when smiles light up her face and the 
bloom of youth still sits upon her cheek, but as to a 
wedded wife to whom his whole life, to whom his 
whole strength is devoted, to whom he remains true 
and adoring through calm and through troubled times, 
and whose honor he is pledged to defend against every 
attack. 

But even in art in its minor applications — to our 
articles of eveiy-day use and to household embellish- 
ments — we must be equally conscientious ; she must bo 
to us as a near kinswoman whose softening presence, 
whose elevating influence makes us purer men, for ho 
who strives to give a form of fitness and of beauty 
even to the most humble work, ennobles himself, his 
work, and those who come in contact with it. 

20 



302 DUTY ON WORKS OF ART. 

For the purposes of the art workshop the principles, 
at least, of art, the laws of the harmonies of lives and 
colors and proportions, must be taught and demon- 
strated with all thoroughness and all energy, and the 
students must be made to accept the teaching in the 
same spirit. 

If there are no prospects of our government doing 
anything in the way of appropriations for the encour- 
agement of art, there is yet one step in this direction 
which it might take without much loss to the treasury. 

As the circular from the State Department, given at 
the beginning of this chapter, also asks for the opinions 
of consuls in regard to the question whether by legisla- 
tive or executive action the trade with the United 

States as to the products of (in my case, Bavaria) 

could be increased, I took the liberty to state that, in 
my opinion, the admitting into our ports all works of 
art free of duty would be attended with the most bene- 
ficial results. 

Charity begins at home ; we do not make enact- 
ments to benefit other nations, and where we make 
concessions we expect to get a full return in some way 
or other. In advocating the free admission of works 
of art of foreigners it is not the gain of foreign artists 
that I have in view, but the gain of our own artists, 
the gain of art in general in our country, and, indi- 
rectly, the gain of our manufacturers and industrial art 
workers. 

There is no doubt that the mere seeing of good pic- 
tures and statues has a progressive influence in edu- 
cating the taste of the people. We see such results in 
all nations where the arts have been fostered, and 
where the works of art have been made accessible to 
all. The mere seeing"^ of good specimens of art gives a 

* I once knew a gentleman who made a set of picture-blocks for his 
children (that is, cubes, on eiich side of which is pasted part of a picture, 
which, when properly placed together, form a whole picture, and, as the 
cube has six sides, six different pictures can be formed). Everybody 
knows such blocks. The gentleman in question had cut up six fine steel 



DUTY ON WORKS OF ART. 303 

training to the eye and to the mind, which may per- 
haps not even be acknowledged by the recipient, but 
which, nevertheless, expresses itself involuntarily in his 
productions, if only in a slight and almost undiscernible 
degree. The ill-mannered man, by associating with 
those of better manners, even though he have no one 
to instruct him in the rules of common politeness, in- 
stinctively gains a little polish. 

That our people have a love for art every one must 
admit who saw the crowds that continually thronged 
the "Memorial Hall" at our Centennial Exhibition. 
There was no other part of the Exhibition that was so 
universally visited as this. Most people are interested 
in certain branches, and paid their attention to those 
to the exclusion of others, it being impossible, even if 
one were a daily visitor, to see everything in that vast 
display, but all went to see the pictures and statues. 

The great demand now is that art shall be made 
more popular. One certain way of doing this would be 
to take off all duty on works of art. I use this term, 
of course, in its restricted sense, meaning thereby only 
paintings and statuary and monumental works (which 
can properly be classed as individual works of art), not 
anything that can be reproduced by mechanical or 
other means, or anything that is intended to be put to 
any practical or material use. The revenue* to our 
government from this source is quite insignificant, while 
the duty of ten per cent, is a serious item to the single 
purchaser. There is not a nation of Europe that im- 
poses any duty on works of art except Greece (alas. 



engravings for this purpose. On my asking why he had not taken com- 
mon pictures such as are commonly used for children, he said that chil- 
dren should be accustomed from their earliest youth to see what is good 
in art in order to stimulate their taste for the beautiful, lie was per- 
fectly ri^ht. 

* The duty on works of art (except those of American citizens executed 
abroad) is ton j)er cent, ad valorem. On the frames to j)icturo8 there is 
«n additional duty of thirty five percent. ; that was the tariff at the time 
the report was written. For present tariff, see note at the end of thi« 
chapter. 



304 DUTY ON WORKS OF ART. 

oh, Hellas!) and Turkey, which we can scarcely class 
as a civilized state. 

A painting or a piece of sculpture is the emanation 
of the hand and of the mind of a single individual, ad- 
dressing itself to the senses of all who behold it. Each 
new work of art is a new creation. It cannot, there- 
fore, be viewed in the light of an ordinary piece of 
manufacture which can be reproduced indefinitely, 
neither can it be looked upon as an article designed for 
the ultimate use of one person, since it can call forth 
the same pleasurable emotions in those who are priv- 
ileged to view it as in its actual possessor. It is 
true that some artists repeat their work once or twice, 
and a picture or a statue is sometimes imported for the 
purpose of public exhibition, thus bringing pecuniary 
profit to its owner; but such cases are comparatively 
rare. 

But our tariff is avowedly not for the purposes of 
revenue alone ; it is essentially a protective tariff. The 
first law of the United States was an " act to regulate 
the time and manner of administering certain oaths," 
and the second law, passed July 4, 1789, was an " act 
for laying a duty on goods, wares, and merchandises 
imported into the United States.'* And the preamble 
to that law states that " it is necessary for the support 
of the government, for the discharge of the debts of 
the United States, and the encouragement and protec- 
tion of manufactures." In that law the duty on works 
of art (being among " all other goods, wares and mer- 
chandise not enumerated") was five per cent. In the 
statute of August 10, 1780, "pictures and prints" were 
subjected to a duty of ten per cent. With the excep- 
tion of some slight variations, which, however, were 
repealed within a year or so, the duty on works of art 
remained at ten per cent, until the year 1883. 

Now, if the duty on works of art is intended for the 
protection of our home artists (for the whole sum which 
foreign works of art bring in as revenue will not aver- 
age thirty-five thousand dollars a year), let us see if they 
have not just cause for complaint of having been very 
much slighted as compared with producers in other 



PROTECTION, 305 

branches, for almost all other articles have been succes- 
sively raised in the tariff to forty, fifty, sixty, and one 
hundred per cent, of their value. Again, they have 
cause to complain that Americans working abroad are 
not taxed on sending their works to the United States. 
The artist in Europe has immense advantages in study- 
ing and pursuing his calling which we have not yet in 
the United States. Almost all the academies of art are 
open to the foreigner on the same liberal terms as they 
are to the citizens of the country in which they are 
situated. As an artist, the American can live cheaper 
abroad, and can study cheaper than he can at home. 
His studio is cheaper, his models are cheaper, his ma- 
terials are cheaper. He has the undisturbed use of 
galleries and museums to aid in extending his knowl- 
edge and in guiding and forming his judgment; and in 
the art-markets of Europe, in the exhibitions, in the 
salesrooms and in the studios, he sees more contempo- 
rary art in a day than he could see at home in a year. 
Turning to our compatriots of the brush and those of 
the chisel, working abroad, we find that they are not 
equally treated by our laws. The American sculptor 
abroad can ship his works through our custom-house 
entirely free of duty ; with the painter it is different : 
it is only his canvas that is free, — on the frame he has 
to pay a heavy duty. Now, the frame is essentially a 
part of his picture. The picture is painted in the 
frame, the colors are toned at the extremities of the 
canvas to harmonize with the color of the gold. The 
picture is, as it were, built into the frame which the 
artist has chosen, and which he intends shall always 
remain an indispensable and inseparable part of his 
picture. 

And now let us consider the question whether our 
artists in general are, either pecuniarily or profes- 
sionally, protected, or even benefited, by the present 
law, or by a law which places the duty still higher. 

I assume that an artist of acknowledged power 
cannot suffer through the unhindered competition of 
foreign works, inasmuch as an art-production is an ex- 
pression of individuality which is not the result of a 
u 20* 



306 THE HOME OF ART, 

certain calculable outlay of capital, or of a specified 
period of time for its completion, and not subject to the 
same tests of comparison as one piece of manufactured 
goods with another. The artist, therefore, whose style 
and conception and execution find favor with an in- 
tending purchaser, stands no less chance of selling his 
work because it is surrounded by hundreds of others. 
A person who is bent on purchasing a quiet domestic 
scene, or a fancy head or a still life, is not likely to take 
instead a gory battle-piece, or a terrific thunder-storm, 
happening to be hanging on either side of it, merely 
because those two stand higher as works of art than 
the one whose subject suits him. On the other hand, 
a mediocre artist, who is earnestly striving to better 
himself, can' always learn something by seeing good 
pictures near his own (it is a positive advantage to 
him) ; but he need not fear the company of foreign pic- 
tures any more than the company of native produc- 
tions : in the midst of either home or foreign rivals each 
work must stand on its own merits. 

No one will be disposed to dispute the fact that in 
Europe, where art has had its home almost since the 
beginning of that country's histor}^ the best and high- 
est of its works have been produced, and that even at 
the present day its prestige is not lost. Not seeking 
to make any comparison between the works of our 
artists and those of foreigners, we must all admit that 
the greatest number of good paintings and statues, 
both relatively and absolutely considered, are still 
made in Europe.* It is probably owing more to the 

* It is the hackneyed saying of Americans, and we can see it in every 
article written on art, that as figure-painters we have yet to make 
our mark, but that our landscape painters are the best in the world 
(I think we have got to prove the one assertion as well as the other). 
Those who buy pictures abroad will rarely touch a landscape; I scarcely 
know an assertion in art-matters more general than the above. The 
train of reasoning which induces such people to this sweeping boast, and 
which they have been kind enough to explain to me, is this ; they say 
we have such grand scenery in America, such brilliant sunsets, such di- 
versity of glowing colors in our autumnal foliage, that painters are never 
at a loss for magnificent subjects, and that therefore our landscapists are 
greater than any Europeans. These people don't know what the require- 
ments for a picture are : the modern French school has shown us with 



PRIVATE ART GALLERIES. 307 

fear of competition in quality than in price that animates 
the upholders of a protective art-duty. 

It is not every American artist that has the oppor- 
tunity of going to Europe to study, and of seeing there 
the best works of the best masters ; these, as well as 
those who have already been abroad, and are now re- 
turned, want to be kept posted up in contemporary art, 
and hail with satisfaction every new acquisition from 
foreign studios. The man who has nothing more to 
learn is not yet an artist. The true artist will have 
the desire to see the products of the various schools of 
Europe, and of their best representatives, upon our own 
walls in as large numbers as possible. 

It is urged that foreign works of art are only bought 
by our millionaires for their own private gratification, 
and are shut up in their galleries, and that thus the 
public reaps no advantages from such importations. 
This is to some extent true. Yet these galleries are 
not quite so inaccessible as most people suppose. The 
owners are always glad, and at the same time proud to 
show their treasures to all who take an interest in 



what simple material the grandest landscape compositions and effects can 
be produced. But it is useless trying to explain to such people that it is 
a mistake to suppose that grand scenery, in itself, furnishes the best mo- 
tives for pictures, or is capable of making good painters. It is a blind 
prejudice, — it is giving oneself a certificate of mental povert3', not to ac- 
knowledge that where the most thorough art-training is imposed there 
the best artists in every branch will be formed. It is true, there are 
some men who are artists " by the grace of God," — who have taken na- 
ture alone for their study, and who have found out for themselves how 
to translate it to their canvas, — but I believe such are fewer and farther 
between than angels' visits. If we had to dej)end on them alone for our 
works of art, pictures and statues would be about as scarce as comets. 

No ; art must be pursued as a study. We must learn from those who 
are ahead of us. — from those who have been before us. Nature must ever 
be our great model, but art must teach us how to make ])r()j)cM- opj)liea- 
tion of it. Old King Ludwig said the first thing he required of a painter 
was that he should bo able to ])aint. lie meant by that that the greatest 
genius would not help a man in art until ho had learned to handle his 
pencil and his brush correctly. Jle meant that the best ideas would bo 
of no use to others unless the possessor of them knew how to clothe them 
in the dress that would make them understandable to others, lie meant 
that a man must first learn what is allowable in art expression before ho 
could make a composition. One cannot write a poem without first having 
learned the language. 



308 ART AND LITERATURE. 

them. Besides, there are often loan exhibitions in all 
our cities to which all possessors of works of art gen- 
erously contribute, and they are thus exposed to the 
inspection of the student as well as the public. 

We can never, of course, hope to have collections of 
the works of the old masters on our shores such as the 
museums and galleries and palaces and churches and 
private houses from one end of Europe to the other 
are able to show, for such works are all in hands that 
will never part with them. The American student, if 
not able to go abroad, can only study such works 
through photographs and casts or through good copies. 
But apart from the works of the old masters, there is 
so much in the contemporary art of Europe worthy of 
study that we should use every means in our power to 
secure as many good specimens of it as possible, and 
our government should surely lay no stumbling-block 
in the way ; for art is not for one man's use, nor for 
one class of people, but for all men. We don't think 
of placing any tax on foreign musical productions,— 
what sorry dogs we would be if we did! — and yet I 
suppose we have some composers of negro melodies 
and whining sentimental ballads who think they have 
as good a right to be protected as the painter or the 
sculptor, but heaven protect us when we begin to pro- 
tect them. Look at our authors ; is not our country 
overflooded with reprints of the literary products of 
foreigners, which no law hampers? Would it not be 
logical, from a congressional point of view, to say that 
our people must read the works of our own writers for 
the writers' benefit, — that they must pa}^ heavily for 
the privilege of reading the works of foreigners ? 

I am aware that some of our artists who take larger 
views of matters in general than what is bounded by 
the frames of their own canvases, are, and have been, 
for a long time, in favor of admitting all legitimate 
works of art free of duty. 

To those weaker ones who clamor for governmental 
protection, and whose arguments are dollars and cents, 
let me say a few words in conclusion. I would like to 
comfort them with the assurance that they would be 



THE AMERICAN ART-MARKET. 309 

no losers by the passage of such a law ; I go so far as 
to predict that, on the contrary, our artists would 
profit pecuniarily thereby. 

It is almost the rule with Americans who have a 
taste for the fine arts and the means to gratify it, that 
they put off making any purchases in that line till they 
go to Europe. They know that there they have a 
larger stock from which to make a selection. They 
know that the American art-market does not particu- 
larly bristle with foreign works. Our art-dealers do, 
of course, import works of art from all parts of Europe, 
because they must have something on hand, but they 
are very cautious in the selection and in the quan- 
tity of what they buy. Compare the stock of our 
leading art-dealers with that of leading importers in 
other branches, and see what a limited assortment 
they have. If a work remains long on their hands and 
they are obliged to sell by auction, they get much 
lower prices for good pictures than the same would 
fetch if sold under the same circumstances in Europe. 
These same art-dealers know that they cannot hope to 
sell American works of art, — cannot even get amateurs 
to examine them unless they have a certain proportion 
of foreign works to keep them company. But, the 
stock of foreign pictures being small, the stock of 
American ones must also be small. The American 
purchaser therefore, as I have said, mostly waits till ho 
makes a trip to Europe, for he will there have an op- 
portunity of seeing works of art in vast quantities and 
of all ranges of style and subject. As many different 
dealers have each a work or works of the same artist, 
the buyer is soon able to form an intelligent estimate 
of the money value of each artist's productions. It' in- 
ducements were held out to him to patronize more 
freely our home dealers, he would be likely now and 
then to buy an American picture too. 

There is another class of Americans, who have a 
desire to possess works of art, but who, not having 
sufficient reliance on their own judgment, — not trusting 
in their own knowledge in art-matters, — think they can 
purchase more safely abroad, because they have the 



310 IMPORTATION OF PICTURES. 

idea that only second- and third- and fourth-rate 
works are sent to America, the really valuable things 
finding, as tiiey think, a ready sale where they are 
produced. Then, too, he is haunted by the fear that 
he might be buying only a "copy" after all. He has 
heard of the pleasures of visiting studios abroad, and 
he can then satisfy himself by going to the artist in 
person. Artists are generally full of blarney, and when 
they catch a man in their studio, it is ten to one they 
do not let him go out as heavy in pocket as when he 
went in. At home, every man who has money, or who 
is making money, is full of business; he has no time to 
be running around studios. 

Now, let us take off the duty entirely on works of 
art (and I mean, too, the duty on frames, where the 
frame is a bona fide part of the picture, and where it is 
not of more value than the picture itself), and let us 
try to imagine the result. 

In the first place, the importation of foreign works 
of art will increase. The art-dealers will extend their 
galleries, and in order to vary and complete their stock 
they will buy more American works than now. The 
selling prices of foreign works being sensibly decreased, 
the sales will be greater. The buying public will in- 
crease in numbers ; but this very public,, by becoming 
better acquainted both with foreign and American pro- 
ductions, and by seeing them keeping company with 
each other on the same walls, will be more apt to take 
American works than now, for many of the subjects of 
the latter will always please more, and be more under- 
standable to them than those of foreigners. Good pic- 
tures in Europe, as a general thing, bring better prices 
than good American pictures in America. Our artists* 
works, hanging side by side with those of Europe, will 
thus gradually command higher prices, too, than they 
now do. 

By having as large and varied an assortment at 
home as possible, we must aim at making our people 
purchasers while they are at home, and at all times. 
We should strive to make the going to Europe not 
indispensable for the procuring of works of art. 



TEE TARIFF OF 1883. 311 

As it now 18, the American, when he returns from 
Europe, finds that he has been spending money there 
freely, and he now determines to retrench his expenses ; 
he brings with him enough articles of luxury to stock 
his house with, and he has no room for more; he has 
his daily routine of business cares to absorb his attention, 
and he has, besides, no longer that elastic interest in 
art which he had abroad. He generally, on his return, 
sets himself to work with redoubled energy to make 
up for what he has spent on his travels, and for what 
he considers a loss of time, and he feels that he must 
not throw away any more money at present on expen- 
sive ornaments for the mere embellishment of his 
house. He has become somewhat satiated with art on 
his travels (not being accustomed to the diet), and 
when he gets back to the land of the free and the 
home of the brave, he sees more color in the glorious 
stars and stripes that welcome him than in all the 
canvases of Europe put together. He is less prone 
than ever to encourage art at home. If we want to 
secure his patronage we must catch him before he 
goes abroad. 

Note. — When the new tariff bill of March 3, 1883, was preparing, 
some of our prominent artists at home, those who had received their art- 
education abroad, took steps to call the attention of the Tariflf Commis- 
sion to the views of the more intelligent and liberal-minded of their 
craft in regard to the subject of protection, and urged that the then 
existing duty of ten per cent, on foreign works of art should be removed. 
The matter was taken up by our newspapers, and they seconded the 
views of these artists. The arguments in support of these views were 
ably set forth, and from the general interest taken in the subject it was 
hoped that at last something would be done in the matter. 

Something was done in the matter. 

Great indeed was the surprise and indignation of all true lovers of art 
and of intellectual progress to find that instead of the duty of ten per 
cent, being repealed, it was suddenly raised to thirty per cent. Protests 
went in from all American artists studying abroad, for they felt really 
ashamed that in return for all the hospitality and the actual benefits 
they had received at the hands of foreign nations — benefits that they 
could never have at home — our government was going to treat those 
nations in such a shabby and unheard-of manner. The great mass of our 
artists at home joined their brethren in Europe in their appeal. 

Many foreigners felt the new law to he so unjust that it was even 
seriously proposed that American students be no longer admitted to the 
academies on the same terms as natives and those of other countries, as 
they had hitherto been, and that the government institutions anil public 



312 AN AMERICAN TRAVELLER. 

exhibitions should not award any prizes or other tokens of merit to 
American artists. But no such retaliatory measures were taken, and the 
American has still the same advantages of study as he formerly had at 
the academies of Europe. It is well known what^a number of Ameri- 
cans have received their artistic education at the Ecole des Beaux Arts 
in Paris free of charge, and what a number of medals and prizes have 
been bestowed on them both by that institution and by the jury of the 
Salon where their works have been exhibited. 

The number of Americans who have studied at the Royal Art 
Academy at Munich (enjoying exactly the same privileges as Bavarians) 
is not so well known. The following are the numbers for the last 
thirteen years: 1872,20; 1873, 26 ; 1874, 36 ; 1875, 35; 1876, 32; 1877, 
35; 1878,42; 1879,37; 1880,39; 1881,39; 1882,39; 1883,44; 1884, 
43. Of the above, about five per cent, were sculptors ; the rest were study- 
ing in the antique classes, life schools, painting and composition schools. 
Taking the average whole number of pupils at between five and six 
hundred, we find that the Americans represented about seven per cent, 
of all. During the last thirteen years fifty large silver medals, one 
hundred and twenty-six small silver medals, and four hundred and 
eighty-three bronze medals were distributed as prizes among the pupils; 
of the first, the Americans gained three, or six per cent, of the whole; 
of the second, fifteen, or twelve per cent, of the whole; and of bronze 
medals, forty-six, or nine and one-half per cent, of the whole. 

There is no prescribed limit to the period of a pupil's studies ; he may 
remain within the hospitable walls of the Academy for eight or ten years 
if he wants to. 



CHAPTEK XX. 



Traveller putting his watch in holy water holder — English notions of 
rank — Bavarian holidays — Ride to Nymphenburg; people restoring 
themselves — Trinkgeld — German cities celebrated for something in 
the eating or drinking line. 

We all know the story of the Western chap who 
was accustomed to the freedom of the backwoods 
coming to visit a friend in his sumptuously furnished 
house in the city, and, chewing his quid with diligence, 
expectorated promiscuously over the expensive velvet 
carpet. The host gingerly pushed the spittoon with 
the point of his foot within the range of the shower, 
and shifted it from one point of the compass to the 
other when he saw the man taking his aim. The 
visitor always evaded the shining spittoon, and the 
city man got warm in his endeavors to draw his fViend's 
attention to it. At last the backwoodsman got out of 



AN AMERICAN TRAVELLER. 313 

patience with these attentions, which interfered with 
the easy flow of conversation, and broke out, "If you 
don't take that derned thing out of the road, I'll spit in 
it yet." 

We smile at the ignorance of some people who do 
not know the uses of things that are quite common to 
us ; and even if they have never seen them before, we 
think they ought instinctively to guess their purpose 
and their meaning. 

How many travellers go abroad and see things, and 
have not the least idea of what they are for ; or, they 
attribute some other use to them, and think themselves 
smart for having discerned it so easily. 

All through Bavaria, and in fact in all Catholic coun- 
tries, especially in the rural districts, there is scarcely a 
house that has not in at least one of its rooms, and gen- 
erally in most of its rooms, a crucifix in the corner, and 
a little receptacle for holy water hanging on the wall. 
Especially in the bedrooms the latter is hardly ever 
wanting. It is mostly of porcelain, gilt and painted, 
and has a good deal the shape of a lady's slipper hung 
up by the heel. A Yankee, on his first foot tour 
through the Bavarian Alps, after a hard day's tramp, 
came limping in, tired and foot-sore, at a little tavern, 
and after refreshing himself with roast veal and beer, 
was glad to be shown up at once to bed. The room 
was a marvel of cleanliness ; the curtains at the win- 
dow and the sheets of the bed were as white as snow. 
Over the latter, and quite near the pillow, hung such a 
holy water holder. Our friend was too sleepy to pay 
much attention to his surroundings: he only saw that 
everything was comfortable ; he jerked off his clothes, 
wound up his watch, and glancing at the wall, exclaimed, 
"Well, I'm flummoxed, if this isn't the greatest coun- 
try for finish /oversaw, — they've even got a watch- 
pocket for every guest," — deposited his watch in it, 
popped out his candle, and rolled over to sleep. 

The effect on the machinery after a good ten houiV 

soaking may be imagined. Overnight the works had 

became water-works. There was only one drawback, 

— when they wore taken out of the water thoy wouldn't 

o 27 



314 ENGLISH NOTIONS OF RANK. 

go any more. The young man's reflections were not 
holy when he discovered the mess he had made. 

I cannot see why the business of a merchant or a 
shop-keeper should be looked down upon as Basing less 
noble than that of the physician, the lawyer, or the 
divine. In all cases we have to pay for their commodi- 
ties, and we certainly have a better standard for judg- 
ing of the true value of what we get from our grocer 
and our dry -goods man than of what we get from our 
surgeon or our preacher. The salesman shows us his 
goods and names his prices. If we are not satisfied 
with either we can go to another shop, and thus are 
able to institute an intelligent comparison. But for 
the setting up of our bodies or our souls we have to 
give our confidence or credit. We do not care about 
breaking our leg a second time to see if another doctor 
would patch us up quicker, nor can we well turn back 
from the road to heaven under the guidance of one 
pastor just to try if another one knows a shorter cut. 

In the United States, it is true, we do not hold the 
man who makes his living by buying, and then selling 
again, in such contempt as they do in the old country, 
nor are we able to draw the lines in the social scale as 
finely as they do, for instance, in England. Every- 
thing is graded there like a thermometer, and the 
slightest difference in rank is notched in and noted, 
beginning with those unknown and mythical depths 
below zero, where it is hard to discern where the brute 
creation gradually merges into the lowest forms of hu- 
manity, coming up to the denizens of the slums of Lon- 
don and other cities (and even there, we are told, there 
are certain orders of precedence), going higher up and 
higher up, line by line, until one approaches the illimita- 
ble realms of distinction represented by majesty itself, 
beyond the sphere of, and not conceivable, not un- 
derstandable by common mortals like ourselves, and 
millions of other dwellers on earth who do not enjoy 
that celestial privilege of ruling — by divine right. 

An English lady once objected to meeting some 
friends of mine on the ground that they were below 



BA VARIAN HOLIDA VS. 315 

her in rank. I represented to her that she freely asso- 
ciated with others who were in the very same business, 
and considered them sufficiently ^ood for her. She ex- 
plained : "Ah, there's a great difference, you know, be- 
tween one who sells in large quantities and one who 
sells in small quantities; the one is a merchant and the 
other is a tradesman, you know. The one may be a gen- 
tleman, you know. A merchant has an opportunity of 
raising himself to position ; he may have access to the 
society of persons who are naturally above him. There 
is a great difference between one who does business by 
wholesale and one who does business by retail." So I 
found out that her station condescended to go down as 
far as a wholesale man or a manufacturer, but could not 
cross the retail line. A man who sold by the gross might 
approach her, but a man who sold by the piece must not 
expect her to recognize him. A consul or a lawyer or a 
clergyman, or even a literary fellow, were acceptable to 
her. 

Knowing that the limits of her station were the 
wholesale limits, I was afterwards somewhat perplexed 
about the propriety of introducing another friend to 
her, who, I thought, was fit to hold his own in any 
company ; but unfortunately, my friend was a retailer. 
He did not even sell his things by the dozen (to say 
nothing of by the gross), — he sold his goods singly, — 
piece by piece. He was an artist. 

I put the matter in that form to the lady. She 
thought the joke was a poor one, — but she " caved." 

Ours is said to be a rich country, and so indeed it is. 
In one respect, however, we are poor, and that is in re- 
gard to the number of our holidays. Take the case of 
Bavaria, by contrast, and see what a small kingdom can 
do in this respect. In Bavaria there arc, besides the Sun- 
days, sixteen regular fixed holidays which are observed 
all through the land. But in addition to these, each city, 
each town, or each district has its special patron saint, 
and his name-day is kept as a holiday at the respective 
places, too. For instance, the patron saint of Munich 
is Saint Benno, that of Augsburg Saint Uirich, etc. 



316 BAVARIAN HOLIDAYS. 

On these holidays every business is closed, and they 
are observed in the same manner as the Sundaj^s. 
There is scarcely a month in which a holiday does not 
fall; in many of the months there are two, or even 
three. But June is the favored month in Munich : 
there are no less than five holidays which may fall in 
June ; now if there happen to be five Sundays besides, 
there is a possibility of just ten days out of the thirty 
being holidays. Of course such a concurrence of good 
things is rare, for the most of these festivals having their 
date dependent on that of Easter, some of them now 
and then come in May, and some may be shoved over 
into July, but Saint Benno is a constant fellow, and his 
date is al^vays the 16th of June. You will find by 
studying the almanac that there are, with the Sundays, 
generally eight red-letter days observed in Munich in 
June, very often nine, and never less than seven. And 
on all these days the people devote themselves to pleas- 
ure. When one of these holidays happens to fall on a 
Sunday, of course the people are cheated out of half their 
fun, for then they only get one holiday instead of two. 
In fine weather, the whole population, dressed up in 
its best, is seen swarming out in all directions to 
places in the suburbs, or to places farther off. Those 
who go by rail make their day's excursion to the Lake 
of Starnberg or to the stations on tbe route, as Pasing, 
Planegg, Gauting, and Miihlthal (where Charlemagne 
is said to have been born), an idyllic gorge which gives 
one a foretaste of the romantic scenery which one is 
approaching. An hour's ride from the city brings one 
to the magnificent lake, whose southern side is bor- 
dered by the long chain of the Alps, with the Zugspitz, 
nine thousand feet high, gleaming in the distance. 
Others go to Murnau (on the road to Oberammergau) 
to Miesbach, Tolz on the Tsar, Eosenheim and Aibling, 
and some even as far as Lake Kochel, Lake Ammer, 
Lake Chiem, Lake Schlier, or to the beautiful valley 
of the Inn to Kufstein in Austria, and intermediate 
places. Then there is the old town of Dachau, quite 
near, with its fine park and magnificent view over the 
plain, with Munich and the mountains at its end. 



BAVARIAN HOLIDAYS. 317 

Schleissheim, with its beautiful rococo palace and ex- 
tensive picture-gallery, is only half an hour's ride by 
rail. Its grand park, laid out in Italian style, with 
fountains, cascades, and basins, its long, straight ave- 
nues of chestnuts and beeches, and its parterres of 
flowers, which in the autumn are particularly brilliant, 
is a favorite spot with the Munichers. Then there is 
Grosshesselohe on the banks of the Isar, which are here 
so picturesque, — the rising ground on both sides being 
covered with a forest of magnificent old beeches, out of 
which peep the turrets of Schwanthaler's castle. 

Those who walk, or make use only of the tramway 
or carriages, have a large number of pleasant places to 
choose from. There is Nymphenburg, the royal palace, 
with its extensive grounds laid out partly like an Eng- 
lish park and partly in the French taste of the last 
century. Although somewhat smaller than the famous 
grounds of Versailles, the gardens of Nymphenburg 
are not less lovely. The fountains, cascades, grottos, 
temples, and lakes, and the sculptured accessories are 
not on such a grand scale here, but they are admirably 
adapted to and blended with the natural beauties of the 
landscape. The interior of the palace and the interi- 
ors of the Badenburg and the Amalienburg in the most 
flowery rococo, and the Saint Magdalen Chapel, built 
to represent a ruined abbey, with its spring of blessed 
water, believed to be good for the cure of sore eyes, are 
well worth seeing. Near at hand is the royal stag 
park, and just outside of the palace grounds is a large 
public concert-garden. 

There is also Harlaching on the heights of the Isar 
just above the city, commanding lovely views. Hero 
Claude Lorraine spent several summers making sky 
studies. He came from sunny Italy for that purpose. 
There is a monument erected to his memory at this 
place. 

Then there are pleasant gardens at Sendling, Nou- 
hausen, Forstenried, Brunnthal, Thalkirchon, Bogen- 
hausen, besides numbers of places in the English Gai*- 
den itself, and in the Isar park. At every plaeo^ there 
is music and gayety. 

27* 



318 RIDE TO NYMPHENBURG, 

In bad weather, on holidays, the concert-halls and 
beer-saloons and all places of amusement in the city 
are filled to overflowing. 

Large as is the number of red-letter days on the Ba- 
varian calendar, it was in former times still larger; 
even now, scarcely a session of the parliament passes 
without the subject of reducing it being brought up 
for discussion, but the motion finds little favor with 
the people, who are very tenacious of all customs, and 
are most conservative in their views when any measure is 
suggested which might serve to curtail their enjoyments. 

The road from Munich to I*^ymphenburg is lined on 
both sides with fine old limes (planted in 1758), which 
meet overhead, and one seems to be driving through a 
vast arbor or continuous green arcade. In the early sum- 
mer, when the trees blossom, the perfume is delicious. 

In the short distance between the Propylean and the 
royal palace at Nymphenburg, which is about four 
English miles, there are at least some fifty taverns or 
^' restaurations," dedicated on their signs to every town, 
place, country, and nation in existence, — to every bird, 
quadruped, and reptile known, — to every deity, — to 
every virtu^e, either cardinal or otherwise. In fact, there 
are so many taverns that one would be led to think 
that the very hardest work the publican would have 
to do (which generally consists in going around among 
his guests and wishing them "good appetite," or, 
^^ May it well agree with you") would be in hunting 
up a name for his establishment which is not already 
in use. 

I remember once driving to Nymphenburg with a 
friend on a beautiful summer's day, — it was a Sunday ; 
we had first driven through the English Garden, and 
had seen there the swarms of people streaming in from 
the city. They had overflowed all the public places of 
entertainment. Every table was occupied, every bench 
was filled, and thousands who found no room to sit had 
spread themselves on the grass, with their beer-mugs 
by their side, a picturesque continuity of imbibing and 
enjoying humanity. In this avenue too, through which 



RIDE TO NYMPHENBURO, 319 

we were now driving, before each public-house crowds 
of people were sitting, drinking their beer. My friend 
was a Philadelphian, and Philadelphians are thirsty 
fellows, notwithstanding the respectability of their 
grandfathers; he had sympathy with the people, and 
it gave him unbounded pleasure to read the names on 
the signs, and his standing joke all along the way, and 
repeated about every quarter of a minute, was, "Hello, 
here are more people ^ restoring' themselves/' 

But his pleasantry eventually fell into a strain of 
philosophizing. He said it seemed to him that the 
people of Munich were incessantly restoring them- 
selves; that they never left off; and he began to work 
out the problem as to how the people ever found time 
to get into the position of needing to restore them- 
selves. He said it was like a watch ; if you kept on 
winding it up all the time, you never put it in a posi- 
tion to need winding up, — you never gave it a chance to 
go. 

My friend might have carried on his philosophical 
train of reasoning still further, but we now drove up to 
the great oval place in front of the palace, and the big 
fountain springing up from the pile of rocks in the 
centre of the basin gleamed in the sunlight, and its 
wavering spray fell like showers of jewels. Here there 
was comparative quiet: only a few groups of people 
were sauntering along the broad walks leading to the 
palace. It was no wonder, my friend said, — how was 
it possible to be otherwise? — all Munich, he was con- 
vinced, with the exception of these few loungers and 
ourselves, was sitting in the " restaurations" along the 
road we had passed, and in the English Garden, and 
therefore there could be nobody left. He had been 
making a mental calculation of the probable numbers 
we had seen out of doors, and when I told him what 
the actual population was, he had come to the conclu- 
sion that, with the exception of the bedridden and the 
fellows in the prisons, we had seen every blessed indi- 
vidual of the place. What w^as his astonishment, 
therefore, when we wdieeled into the cafe on the left, 
just to " restore" ourselves, this time, before going into 



320 TRJNKOELD. 

the park, to find an immense garden, bigger than any 
he had seen yet, crowded to its utmost capacity with 
thousands of people, and every man, woman, and child 
with either a cup of coffee or a glass of beer before 
them, as if it were a fresh freight of population sent 
there on purpose to surprise him. 

That the Germans are a thirsty people is well shown 
in the word they have for any gratuity they receive for 
any service. We call it a tip, — they call it " trinkgeld" 
— di'ink-money, — and they're not ashamed to say so. 
Whenever they do anything extra for you, they expect 
to take a drink on it, — and there are so many little 
extra things in Germany. Wherever there is a fixed 
price for any service one must always give a trifle over. 
It is true, they are satisfied with a small sum in general, 
and it is always best to give it. Our people are not less 
generous than any other on the face of the earth, but 
I believe they are often deterred from offering a few 
phennigs in this way from motives of delicacy, — for fear 
they might hurt the feelings of the persons who have 
rendered them a service. They imagine it would be 
insulting to a party who is the wearer of some kind of 
uniform or who is well dressed, and apparently well to 
do, to slip something into his hand. But only let them 
try it. They will find that it is taken in good part, and 
they will receive a polite dofiing of the cap, and cheer- 
ful thanks for it. A traveller is often in need of some 
little outside service on the part of a railroad or post- 
office or custom-house official ; these are always ready 
to render it, and a little token from the traveller in the 
form of a trinkgeld makes things go more smoothly. 
I am told it is sometimes done in the case of the latter 
class of officials even in the United States, — only we have 
another word for it there. 

The mistake the American abroad generally makes 
is that either he gives nothing, or, when he does give, 
he gives entirely too much. It may be snobbishness or 
it may be ignorance on their part, — I am inclined to 
think it is the latter. 

One of the most embarrassing things for a stranger is, 



TRINKQELD, 321 

on leaving a hotel, for all the waiters with their white 
shirt-bosoms and shining black swallow-tails and their 
sleekly-combed hair, the porters and the boot-blacks, 
and that pompous individual who inhabits a little ken- 
nel near the entrance door, and called for that reason 
the portier, — all stand up in an avenue (through which 
you have to pass) to see you off, and each beaming face 
is one of expectancy, and each helping hand is one of 
graspancy. The chambermaids, though they are not 
allowed to leave their floor, always manage to hover 
around in a general manner when they know you are 
going to leave your room for the last time. 

If you take a cab, the driver is alwaj^s thirsty when 
he jumps down from his box to let you out. 

If jon go to a picture-gallery or a church, or a 
museum, or public collection of any kind, you will find 
that the attendants are in a chronic state of thirst. 

If you are at a restaurant, or a cafe, or a beer-house, 
it is always good to be careful that the waiter or 
waitress does not get too dry, by giving a few phennigs 
over and above the account. 

It would swell this volume considerably if I were to 
give a full list of cases where a trinkgeld is acceptable, 
but it would all go to prove the correctness of the as- 
sertion made at the beginning of this article, that the 
Germans are a very thirsty people. 

But the Germans are fond of good eating too. There 
is scarcely a city in the empire that is not celebrated 
for some delicacy in the edible line that is as well known 
to the masses as Cincinnati hogs or Jersey lightning 
with us. 

For instance, there is Braunschioeiger Leberwurst, 
Gothaer Cervelatwurst, Danziger Marzipan, Leipziger 
Allerlei, Nurnherger Lebkuchen, Offenhacher Pfefter- 
niisse, Mainzer Handkiise, Kieler S])rotten, Westphdli- 
scher Schinken, Aachener Prenton, Hamburger Ilaiich- 
fleisch, Strassburger Ganseleberpastcte, Wiener Schnitzl, 
and hosts of others. 

Then in the way of drinks, take up any wine-card, 
and see what a number you will find of wines which 



322 BEER. 

are universally known by the name of the town or the 
province where they are produced. There is Danziger 
Goldwasser, iVbr^Aaw5(3r Branntwein, Frankfurter Aq^^qI- 
wein, Berliner Blonde, Leipziger Gose, and, — coming 
down to Munich, — what is Munich celebrated for? — 
for its BEER 



CHAPTER XXI. 



Beer: introductory — Beer-drinking must be begun in infancy — Amer- 
ican ideas of beer-drinking — How tbe German drinks — American 
perfecting himself in beer-drinking — No humbug in the measure of 
beer — The initials on the mugs — Origin of beer — History of beer — 
Meaning of the word beer — Approach of spring — Bock — Radishes — 
History of bock — Salvator beer — Breweries in Munich — Consumption 
, of beer — Consumption of beer in Munich — But little drunkenness — Tee- 
total ideas in America — Percentage of alcohol in Bavarian beer — Pro- 
cess of making beer — Laws in regard to brewing — Taxes on beer — 
Salaries of brewers. 

It would be but a poor work on Munich if one 
chapter were not devoted to beer; most of the people 
there devote their whole lives to it. Bavaria takes the 
lead of all nations in its consumption of beer, but 
Munich out-beers all Bavaria, and it is no more than 
proper that the chief characteristics of a nation should 
culminate at its capital. 

In this country, beer is the great constitutional, politi- 
cal, and social lever. Kings may depart and fresh kings 
ascend the throne, new constitutions may be demanded 
by the people, — and granted them or refused them, — 
treaties after a war may nip off a piece of their land, 
or add territory to it, — and everything soon settles into 
its usual course, but let any social, religious, or political 
question arise that might, directly or indirectly, inter- 
fere with the quality or the price of their beer, and the 
Bavarians would be up in arms. Munich has seen 
several beer riots within its walls. 

Beer is the great absorbing subject of interest for 



BEER, 323 

every true Bavarian. Beer is the staple topic for de- 
bate, and the starter of sociability between acquaint- 
ances or strangers. People are relieved here from 
taking the everlasting weather as an opener to conver- 
sation; when a new-comer joins you at table, his first 
remark is, " How is the beer to-day?" — that leads on 
to a delightful avenue of comment and counter-com- 
ment, which may branch off to other paths of discourse, 
or may prove fascinating enough to detain the enthu- 
siastic worshippers of Gambrinus within its bounds 
during the whole sitting. 

Prom one end of the year to the other beer is drunk. 
It never gives out ; its spring is perennial. 

Game has its time to fall ; 
Fresh vegetables come but once a year, 
And Christmas once, — but thou hast all — 
All seasons for thine own, oh beer. 

Almost every nation has some old-fogy saying, that 
such and such a thing is " gold in the morning, silver 
at noon, and lead at night ;" it is only varied by sub- 
stituting some diflPerent edible as being thus fluctuating 
in its qualities. With some people it is cheese, with 
some it is fruit, and with others it is always some ar- 
ticle which we would just like to enjoy when we feel 
most like partaking of it, without having to pull out 
our watch to see if the hour is correct for its consump- 
tion. But the traditions of beer are unhampered with 
any such restrictions. Beer is gold at all times, and 
the Munich man will prove it to you : it suits to every- 
thing in the eating line ; it goes well with breakfast, 
dinner, or supper; and even between times, it tastes no 
worse if taken alone. It cools one in the heats of sum- 
mer and it cheers one in the chill of December. It is 
the grandest thing in the world when one is right 
thirsty, and it is equally so when one is not thirsty ; 
and the Bavarian w^ould be able to prove that also, even 
though he cannot do it from his own experience, for ho 
never happens to be in the latter state, and he does not 
allow himself to get to the extreme limits of the Ibrmer, 
for he plies himself with beer prospectively, that a 



324 BEER. 

parching thirst may not overtake him. A man here 
could not get along without beer all his life any more 
than he could get along without air, and it is a ghastly 
little joke to say that even after death he can't get along 
without his bier. 

The Bavarian could not have brought the science of 
beer-drinking to its present state of perfection if he did 
not begin at infancy. Nature teaches us that those or- 
ganisms are the most perfectly developed that are of 
slow growth. To begin in later life to qualify oneself 
as a beer-drinker, would be to begin an art at its flow- 
ery extremities instead of at its source ; it would be 
like expecting to be perfect in rhetoric without having 
learned to speak, to be perfect in spelling without 
having learned the alphabet ; it would be like plunging 
into the water before we had learned to swim ; it would 
be like trying to get to the top of a ladder without 
starting at its bottom rounds. No ; the Bavarian be- 
gins ah incunahilis. The babe at the breast is given its 
first sip of beer. Before it is more than a year old it is 
knowing in the matter of beer, and claps its hands 
joyfully when it sees the sparkling brown juice in the 
mug. Before it can walk it is generally honored with 
the present of a miniature beer-glass, which becomes 
as necessary a table equipment for it as the spoon it 
eats with. When the child is able to run about, it is 
taken by its parents to the beer-houses and the beer- 
gardens, and it there clutches the heavy mug of its 
father or its mother with both its fists, and immerses 
its beak into it like the older persons around. The 
magic attractions of beer already begin to work their 
charm, for it keeps the children from straying away. 
They may play around at a short distance from the 
table, but they do not go out of sight of it, and return 
to it from time to time to take a swig. As they ad- 
vance in years and are put to the primary school, 
they become more sedentary at the beer-table ; they 
then have a glass of their own. It is quite astonishing 
to see how many children are sitting quietly, with 
their elders, for hours, instead of romping around as 
children in other countries would do. Their taste be- 



BEER. 325 

ginR to form ; they wait expectantly for the tapping 
of a fresh barrel, and they are already judges of the 
quality of beer, and can talk about it like connoisseurs. 
When the}" get to the higher schools, the gymnasiums, 
the academies, and the universities, their imbibing pro- 
pensities have developed to an enormous extent. The 
universit}^ student, in particular, becomes an adept in 
beer-drinking, — whatever else he studies, this art he 
pursues con amove, 

I have (living so long in Bavaria, and having made 
special investigations there) called beer-drinking an 
art. We have no idea in America how beer should be 
drunk. I have always thought we get but little satis- 
faction from our eating and drinking, from the manner 
in which we gulp it down. What we call a bar is 
certainly a bar to the enjoyment of what we imbibe 
and what we devour. We scarcely give it time to get 
a taste of it. No wonder the Indian wished his neck 
a mile long that he might taste the whiskey all the way 
going down. In the way of eating and drinking almost 
all nations can teach us something. In the matter of 
drinking we can learn most from the Germans. 

The German does not drink as much as he does 
through any unnatural craving for drink, or from the 
promptings of intemperance, or to kill time, or to 
drown his sorrows, but simply because he enjoys it. 
And because he enjoys it he drinks much. But to ar- 
rive at this happy consummation, the thing must be 
done scientifically. The great secret of being able to 
drink much is to drink slowly. 

The German is noted for his philosophical persever- 
ance and patience in all things. Note him when ho 
goes to a beer-house. If the locality is such that ho 
can see the barrel from which the beer is drawn, ho 
first takes a scrutinizing look at it. If it is lying flat 
on its belly on its wooden horse, he knows that it has 
but lately been tapped, and he sits down and is ready 
for his beer. If the barrel is very much tilted over to- 
wards the front, he knows it will soon be empty. Ho 
then somewhat delays taking his scat, or ho strolls 
around under pretence of hunting a bettor place, or 

28 



326 BEER, 

passes a few words with acquaintances in different 
parts of the hall or the garden, as the case may be, for 
he is cunningly waiting for a fresh barrel to be tapped. 
Being once at the table, he has scarcely settled him- 
self, when, without his asking for it, a pint glass or a 
quart mug (according to the locality he is in) is set be- 
fore him. He sits quietly for a few moments to com- 
pose himself, glancing with satisfaction on the scene 
around him. Having rooted himself comfortably on 
the chair or bench, — for he is not disposed to leave it 
very soon, — he slowly raises the vessel, and with a 
dexterous motion of his thumb causes the pewter lid to 
fly back on its hinges. If it be a glass he has, the ice- 
cold beer has caused its outward surface to be covered 
with a pearly moisture which looks like bronzed frost- 
work. He raises the glass still higher so as to bring 
it between his eyes and the light, and takes a critical 
look at its color ; then he nears it to his lips, and takes 
a long pull. But the pull is only long in duration, for 
when he sets down the glass and carefully closes the 
lid, you find that only about a fifth of the beer has dis- 
appeared. If he be at a brewery or a cellar where the 
beer is drunk from high stone mugs, he opens the lid 
and looks lovingly into the foam, as he can form an 
opinion (from the color and consistency of the same) 
of the quality of the beer before tasting it. If the foam 
makes big eyes, as the expression is, and the bubbles 
rapidly burst, be shakes his head deprecatingly. If, on 
the contrary, the foam is of a soft, warm, whitish color, 
and creamy in its consistency, and covers the beer only 
to the depth of half an inch ; if it remains long in that 
state without showing any signs of dissolving; if it 
adheres to the inner side of the lid like the snow of 
fresh-beaten eggs, a beaming smile of satisfaction over- 
spreads his countenance. His first glass is taken for 
thirst, or for the nearest approach to real thirst that 
he ever allows himself to arrive at, and it may, per- 
haps, be empty in the course of ten or fifteen minutes. 
The succeeding glasses are more slowly emptied, and 
from twenty minutes to half an hour are devoted to 
each. In refilling the glasses no time is wasted. The 



BEER. 327 

attendants go round with Argus eyes on the lookout 
for empty glasses : to see one standing for more than a 
moment after it has been taken from the lips is a hor- 
ror to any right-minded waiter or waitress. Without 
their asking " by your leave" it is immediately snatched 
away, and is soon brought again refilled to the guest. 
These attendants have a most wonderful talent for 
noting the number of each glass, and for keeping a 
running account of the number of glasses each guest 
has drunk. They will often gather up from eight to 
twelve empty glasses at a time from as many guests, 
and in returning them they never make a mistake. 
Each man gets his own glass back again. 

I once knew an enthusiastic American who wanted 
to perfect himself in beer-drinking after the Bavarian 
model. Of course he started too -late in life as a beer- 
drinker to inspire any discerning judge with the hope 
that he would ever more than partially succeed. But 
the young man was earnest, and full of confidence. 
He had gone through a bad system of schooling, and 
there was much to be unlearned. He had been accus- 
tomed to take his malt down at a jerk, according to our 
fashion, and always standing, so that it might go down 
even more quickly. He had great difficulty in getting 
out of this habit. He always took too much at one 
swallow, and his first glass was empty in no time ; and 
then, he was already satiated with his pint, and could 
drink no more ; for his second glass he had no relish. 
After meeting with but indifferent success in his study, 
he told me in confidence that he had at last hit on a 
capital plan which could not fail. He was going to 
gauge his glass into a certain number of swallows, and 
then, by laying his watch on the table, he would take 
a certain number of minutes' rest between, and, he said, 
he should not be satisfied until he had brought him- 
self so far as to require just half an hour to each glass. 

Of the quality of the Bavarian beer, and also of the 
quantities consumed, I shall speak farther on : I only 
want to remark in this place that in the measure of the 
beer one gets there is no humbug. The law requires 
that each glass and each mug shall bear on its out- 



328 BEER. 

side the governmental attestation as to its capacity. 
A horizontal line is ground into the glass or stone 
showing the exact level which the liquid must have. 
This line dare not be less than one centimetre (half an 
inch) from the rim, so as to allow for the foam. The 
vessels must be filled to that mark with beer. Woe to 
the publican who does not come up to the scratch. If, 
in the hurry of business, such a thing does occasionally 
happen, the guest is not slow to send his glass back to 
be properly filled, accompanied with some compli- 
mentary German epithets which would more than fill 
a barrel. 

The unit of liquid measure in Germany is, as in 
France, the litre (something over a quart). Each mug 
holding that quantity must be stamped with the letter 
L before the stroke ; if a half-glass, with } L, so that 
there can be no mistake as to its real capacity. Be- 
fore the introduction of the new weights and measures, 
in 1874, the unit for liquids in Bavaria was the mass 
(the measure), and the stone jugs were marked with 
an M. 

It is so customary to display the initials of the reign- 
ing monarch as an emblem all over, as, for instance, on 
the helmets of the soldiers, on the boxes of the royal 
opera-house, etc., that one begins to accept the sign as 
having that meaning only, and no other. An Ameri- 
can who stopped at Munich during the palmy days of 
King Maximilian's reign, and who pursued his studies 
with greater assiduity at the Eoyal Court Brewery 
than at any other institution, returned some ten years 
later (during which time he had been gathering useful 
knowledge) when King Ludwig the Second was on the 
throne. Our friend was not slow in resorting to his 
favorite place, the Court Brewery. When he got his 
mug he was at once struck with the alteration of the 
letter on it. " Well, I'm dod dasted," he said, " if these 
Bavarians aren't the most loyal people I ever saw, — 
even on their beer-mugs, — formerly it was always M for 
Maximilian, and now it's L for Ludwig." 

But I have thus far been talking of the drinking of 
beer only, I must now come to the article itself. 



BEER. 329 

The origin of beer, like that of many of the best in- 
stitutions of this world, is lost in the gray mists of an- 
tiquity. It is very natural that wine should have been 
the beverage to have been first invented, for it is made 
of a single ingredient, whioh in its natural state is 
pleasant to the taste. It must have been a fine mind 
to conceive that in a combination of hops and barley, 
neither of which are palatable in their separate states, 
one of the most delicious beverages should come to 
light. Perhaps, like many other great inventions, it 
was the result of chance. The invention is generally 
ascribed to King Gambrinus, whose fame was further 
exalted by his example of personally testing to his full 
capacity the practical merits of his invention. But 
since our faith in William Tell and other great charac- 
ters has been so terribly shaken within the last few 
years, we cannot rest too confidingly on the above hy- 
pothesis. Prosaic minds, even now, contend that Gam- 
brinus is but a corruption of Jan Primus (John the 
First) of Flanders, who flourished in the thirteenth 
century. 

Although in pretty early chapters of the Bible we 
are made acquainted with the composition of wine and 
of its effects on certain steady old heroes, no mention 
whatever is made there of beer: the latter seems to 
have originated with the Germans about the beginning 
of the Christian era. Tacitus mentions that the Ger- 
mans used a liquor made of barley or other grain that 
was nearly as good as wine. In the chronicles of the 
twelfth century we find dissertations on the manner of 
brewing. Already in the eighth century the word 
beer-barrel occurs. In 1575 a doctor of the laws, 
Heinrich Knaust, wrote a work entitled " Five books 
on the godlike and noble gifts of the philosophical, 
highly prized, and wonderful art of brewing beer; an 
exquisite and philosophical secret ; a particular gift of 
God to mankind that it may discover, know, and com- 
prehend how to force a delicious, sweet, white or red, 
hoppy, palatable drink from the preparation and cook- 
ing of wheat or barley, that those people may have en- 
tertainment in whoso land no wine grows, and who 

28^ 



330 BEER, 

would otherwise be doomed to drink nothing but 
water." 

It will be seen from the above with what affectionate 
care the subject was treated three hundred years ago. 
Even for centuries before that time beer seems to have 
been considered a "Godlii^e gift," for it is a notable fact 
that the earliest breweries were founded by monks of 
various orders, and those pious men knew as well what 
was good for the palate as for the soul ; and to the 
present day, some of the very best beer that is brewed 
is produced in the cool vaults of the monasteries. 

Breweries were in existence in Bavaria previous to 
the founding of the city of Munich by Henry the Lion 
in 1158, but up to the fifteenth century the principal 
drinks of the inhabitants were mead (a fermented 
mixture of water, honey, and various fragrant herbs), 
and the wines from Tyrol, from Italy, and from Bava- 
ria itself. One of the first breweries in Bavaria was 
the one established in the year 1146 at Weihenstephan 
(the present brewers' academy) by the bishop of Freis- 
ing. One of the oldest breweries in Munich was the 
one belonging to the "Holy Ghost Hospital," founded 
in 1286. In the year 1325, under the reign of the 
Emperor Louis, the Bavarian, there was already a 
court brewery established at Munich, which was the 
property of the crown. In 1370 there were but three 
breweries in Munich, which number, in the course of 
two centuries, had increased to fifty-three. 

In the sixteenth century wheat beer was introduced 
into Munich from Bohemia, and threatened in the be- 
ginning to supersede the brown beer, but the opinion 
soon began to be held that white beer was not whole- 
some, and, moreover, it was contended that the con- 
sumption of wheat for that purpose would soon 
drain the country of that cereal and there would be 
none left for other uses. Different measures were taken 
to restrict the brewing of white beer, all of which 
proved failures ; at last the Duke of Bavaria took to 
himself the sole right of brewing it, and thus was es- 
tablished the Royal White Beer Brewery at Munich, 
which exists to the present day. 



BEER. 331 

The word beer is a general term for the luscious fluid 
made of malt and hops, but in Bavaria, and more par- 
ticularly in Munich, there are several distinct kinds of 
beer which have their individual appellations. Winter 
beer and summer beer are the same, except that the 
latter is made somewhat stronger for the purpose of 
making it keep better. This is the beer that is drunk 
all the year round. At home we are accustomed to 
calling all beer lager beer, but lager beer is properly 
only the summer beer. 

At the approach of spring, in Munich, its heralds do 
not always take the form of buds and blossoms, nor 
does one have to depend for one's reckoning on the 
more than one swallow to make a summer. The Mu- 
nich man has other signs to tell him of the coming of 
spring. 

On walking the streets of the city, one notices that 
many of the beer-houses are garnished with a large, 
fragrant spruce-tree fresh from the woods, standing in 
a little keg of water on either side of the door-way. 
Above the door-way is a circular painting, like a target, 
representing a goat, rampant, with one of his fore feet 
resting on a flowing glass of beer, which he is tilting 
over. The goat is often decorated with a blue ribbon 
around its neck, and the whole composition is wreathed 
round with fresh spruce boughs as a frame. What 
does this mean ? It means that there the famous 
Munich Bock, or buck beer is to be had. This is com- 
menced to be drunk in the early months of the year, 
and therefore the Munich man knows that spring is 
soon coming. After dragging through the cold and 
the snow and the slush and sleet of winter, the first 
balmy days of March or April always fill us with an 
indescribable longing to rush away from our daily pur- 
suits and our daily haunts, and to speed off" from the 
city — from the labyrinths of brick and stone and mor- 
tar, and the confining streets — to fresh fields, — to the 
open country, — on, on, we know not where. The im- 
agination is heightened, — wo picture to ourselves the 
joys of travel, — wo are itching to experience again the 
sensations which new scenes call up in the breast, — wo 



332 • BEER. 

feel ourselves all at once much younger, and more elas- 
tic, and we walk more briskly than is our usual wont, 
as we sniff the first breath of the sun-warmed air of 
returning spring. A curious emotion of unrest seizes 
us, — it is a burning desire to get away. It is an inborn 
feeling we cannot account for, and it returns regularly, 
as each new spring approaches. I suppose it is some- 
thing akin to that of the early flowers, which leaves 
them no rest in the dull earth any longer, but forces 
them to shoot up into the free air, and into light. 

But not the most fragrant violets or lilies of the 
valley, those sweet harbingers of their brighter, but 
not more lovely sisters, could stir up those feelings of 
spring-tide unrest in the breast of the Munich man 
more strongly than the sight of the rampant buck over 
the beer-house door. 

Passing in through the green boughs and into the 
broad hall-way, which is also decorated with garlands 
of spruce and fir, redolent of the breath of the forest, 
the Municher feels himself half in the country alreadj^ 
The scene is one of joyousness and hilarity; it is about 
ten in the morning; the kellnerins are rushing to and 
fro, with each hand clutching five or six tall, foam- 
ing glasses. There is a continuous buzz of laughing 
and chatting guests, to which the merry strains of a 
small orchestra of fiddle and flute, clarionet and harp, 
perched up somewhere on a raised platform, form a 
pleasant accompaniment. When a very favorite and 
popular air is started up by the musicians, the guests 
join in the chorus with their voices. An indispensable 
adjunct of the bock is the fresh radish, which makes its 
appearance at the same season. These are hawked 
about by old women (a peculiar Munich type), who 
dump you down a little pile of salt from an old wine- 
bottle, on a radish leaf, or on a piece of paper, or on 
the bare table. The preparation of this radish is quite 
a science. It is first carefully pared, and then sliced 
from top to near the bottom in thin sheets (and in this 
operation the skill of the cutter is demonstrated). The 
radish is then opened like a book, and each leaf care- 
fully spread with salt, and then closed again. In a 



BEER. 333 

few minutes it is taken up in the fist and well squeezed, 
when the water runs out of it in streams like the juice 
from a lemon, and the flesh becomes soft and flabby, 
and then it is ready to be eaten. It is said that by 
this process the deleterious properties of the plant are 
destroyed and it becomes a most health-giving esculent. 

But the bock itself; I am afraid I could not do it 
justice in a description of my own ; I will give it in 
the words of the old chronicler Johannes Letzner in a 
work published in Erfurt in 1596, in which he says, 
" It has a fine, cooling, spicy, cleanly, and lovely taste. 
When the bock (Eimbeck beer) possesses a good color, 
a healthy odor, and clean taste, so is it a glorious, 
praiseworthy, wholesome beer and a delectable drink, 
whereof a man, without being robbed of his reason and 
without any injury to his health, can well be joyful, for 
it does not weight the body as other beers do. It stim- 
ulates and refreshes the light, ardent heart, quenches 
the thirst, and is, withal, exceedingly wholesome and 
useful to the sick." 

The present bock possesses all thq above-mentioned 
qualities. 

The bock, nowhere else better than in Munich, is not 
a Bavarian invention. It was first brewed in the town 
of Eimbeck, in Hanover, at the beginning of the six- 
teenth century. The word bock is said to be derived 
from the name of the above town. The sign of the 
rampant buck evidently took its rise from the supposed 
effects of the beer, it being likely to butt one over if 
too much trifled with. Dauel von Fiirstenberg, writing 
from Frankfurt in 1569, in a work called the " Dancing 
Devil," says, " At this time there is in Munich a 
brewage so good and so strong that it can knock down 
nine monks and talk out of their bodies for three days 
afterwards." 

The bock was early brought to Munich in great 
quantities, where it found immense favor. It was 
soon brewed there, and the city of the little monk 
became famous all over Germany for its bock. Duko 
Erich of Brunswick, at the diet of Worms in 1521, 
handed his friend Martin Luther a silver can full of 



334 BEER, 

bock. The great reformer emptied the can with 
much gusto, and said, "As this day Duke Erich has 
been thoughttul of me, so may our Lord be thoughtful 
of him in his last agony." 

But there is still another beer in Munich which 
makes its appearance but once a year (in the spring) 
and is sold only for a short number of days, — it is even 
stronger than the bock, — the Salvator beer. 

To a certain extensive garden, high up on the right 
bank of the Isar, from which a beautiful view of the 
city is had, there is every year a pilgrimage of all 
Munichers. It seems as if a world's fair were being 
held. Close streams of people, men, women and chil- 
dren, people of all ranks and of every station in life, 
pour in from all directions, and the garden and the im- 
mense halls, and even the street adjoining, are swarm- 
ing with drinkers. It is a hard fight of many minutes, 
duration before one can get to the various counters 
where the beer is tapped. It is a hard fight in the first 
place to secure an empty mug. The crowding and the 
shoving is almost intolerable, and yet the Munich man 
stands it bravely and good-naturedly ; the prize rewards 
him for all the inconvenience he has in getting it. The 
thing must be seen, it cannot be described. 

Salvator beer is the invention of the Paulian monks, 
who brewed this beer with special care at all their con- 
vents under the name of Holy Father beer, and they 
commenced drinking it on the second of April, the 
feast of the Holy Father. When the order was dis- 
banded, the brewing of this beer ceased at all places 
except Munich. Their brewery in the Au (a suburb 
of Munich) was sold to a citizen brewer, who kept on 
making the brewage, faithfully adhering to the original 
receipt, to the great delectation of all Munichers. But 
at that time the Bavarian law did not permit the brew- 
ing of any beer either weaker or stronger than the 
established norm (the brewing of bock was a govern- 
ment privilege). The government for a long time 
closed its eyes to this one particular brewery. The 
government officials were themselves evidently fond of 
Salvator. Later, when it was found the law must take 



BEER, 335 

its course, a daily fine of fifty florins was imposed, as 
long as he sold the beer, on the now rich brewer. He 
paid the fine and laughed in his sleeve. But as the 
evading of the law on such conditions was, withal, of 
precarious tenure, the brewer was advised to make a 
direct petition to King Ludwig the First to secure his 
privilege. His petition was successful. The king 
granted him the right, and at the same time the mo- 
nopoly of forever brewing the Holy Father beer on the 
site of the former Paulian Convent brewery. 

Many of the Munich breweries are in the heart of 
the city, but each brewery has generally on the out- 
skirts of the town its cellars, where the beer is stowed 
away in immense barrels. If these cellars do not hap- 
pen to be natural rock cellars, or of a sufficiently low 
temperature, the barrels are packed in ice. Over these 
cellars is a large hall surrounded with an extensive 
space planted with trees and filled with rough benches 
and tables, and on summer evenings these gardens are 
a great resort of the population, where the beer is 
drawn fresh from the cask as it comes from the cellar. 
Wherever you go, these places are crowded ; some of 
them hold from four to six thousand persons. 

There are (in 1882) five thousand four hundred and 
eighty-two breweries in Bavaria, or a little more than 
one to each thousand inhabitants, which proves that a 
" long felt want" is not allowed to exist here. We have 
about two thousand five hundred breweries in the 
United States, so that some twenty thousand or more 
thirsty people have to depend on each for their beer. 
In Munich the smaller breweries have been gradually 
swallowed up by the larger establishments, and there 
are at present twenty-nine breweries, the largest of 
these using one hundred and thirty thousand hectolitres 
(three hundred and sixty-four thousand bushels) of 
malt, and producing about seven million gallons of beer 
per annum. 

In all Europe there are about forty thousand brew- 
eries, producing about one hundred and two million 
hectolitres (seventy-four million eight hinuhv<i thou- 
sand barrels) of boor. Of this qiKuUily Bavaria 



336 BEER. 

produces twelve million two hundred and thirty thou- 
sand hectolitres (eight million nine hundred and seventy 
thousand barrels.)* 

Munich consumes nearly one million hectolitres 
(seven hundred and thirty-three thousand barrels), of a 
value of nearl}^ six million dollars annually. 

In Europe, the least beer is drunk, of course, in those 
countries where they either have good cheap wines, or 
where a great deal of spirituous liquors are drunk. 
France, Spain, Italy, and Russia consume but com- 
paratively little beer. In the United States the quan- 
tity of beer consumed per year by each man, woman, 
and child of the entire population is about thirty-five 
quarts, or less than one-tenth of a quart per day, — 
scarcely a thimbleful. The Dutchmen and the Danes 
are ahead of us, drinking annually forty and sixty-three 
quarts per capita respectively. England rushes up the 
number to one hundred and thirty quarts, and then 
comes Belgium with one hundred and sixty-five quarts, 
and the German Empire with one hundred and thirty- 
five quarts. But certain parts of Germany are thirstier 
than others, for the little kingdom of Wiirtemberg has 
the respectable showing of two hundred and twenty- 
five quarts to each of its inhabitants, while if we take 
only the countries of North Germany, the average is 
only sixtj^-five quarts. Bavaria still overreaches Wiirt- 
emberg, for in Bavaria each person consumes two 
hundred and sixty-one quarts in the course of the year, 
showing that where one of our citizens drinks one glass 
of beer the Bavarian drinks seven and a half. Bavaria 
thus takes the lead of all countries in its beer-consum- 
ing capacities. 

But if the last given amount of two hundred and 
sixty-one quarts seems large, just see what Munich 
does as a capital to keep up its reputation. The an- 
nual quantity of beer consumed per head of the popu- 
lation amounts to four hundred and seventy-three 



* I have not thought it necessary to trouble my readers with ragged 
figures, but have rounded them off, to make them more sightly, and the 
amounts thus given are sufficiently accurate for a work of this kind. 



BEER. 337 

quarts, or one and three-tenths quart per day ; more 
than thirteen times as much as the average amount 
for the American citizen. 

Although, as I have said, the very babes begin drink- 
ing beer almost as soon as they do milk, yet the quan- 
tities consumed by them are comparatively small. 
Then again, if one takes half the population as being 
females, who, of course, are moderate (according to 
their ideas) in the use of beer, I suppose it would leave 
a showing of three and a half or four quarts to each 
male over the age of sixteen years. Now, four quarts 
in the course of twenty-four hours is a small amount 
to a Munich man. If I give the figures of the capacity 
of an ordinary drinker, and of an accomplished drinker 
on extra occasions, they will appear startling. I ven- 
ture to say that there are thousands of men in Munich 
who drink their eight quarts every day of their lives, 
— there are many who drink ten and twelve quarts. I 
knew one man who told me he had been drinking six- 
teen quarts daily for many years. When I looked at 
him I believed him. I knew another who drank six 
litres (nearly six and a half quarts) regularly every 
evening, besides what he had stowed away during the 
day. I am almost afraid to write how many quarts a 
full-fledged student when put upon his mettle can pack 
away, my fear being that my readers might think I 
am an expander. It is a well-established fact, how- 
ever, that a student can drink, and does drink at times, 
ten to twelve quarts at a sitting. In order to get some 
idea of this quantity, suppose it were put into our or- 
dinary five-cent glasses, filled as they usually are (for 
it must be remembered our glasses are one-half foam), 
and we would have a row of about sixty glasses wait- 
ing to be emptied. 

Eecently at an evening festival held at one of the 
Munich breweries, which was attended by about eight 
hundred persons, twenty-nine hectolitres of beer passed 
their lips in about four hours. This averages about 
three and six-tenths quarts to each participant. It was 
a congress of scientific men from all parts of Germany ; 
steady, staid old fellows, the most of them, 
p w 29 



338 BEER. 

Now, although such immense quantities of beer are 
consumed in Bavaria, the amount of drunkenness is 
much less there than in most other countries. A 
drunken man in the streets is a thing almost never 
seen. Even when people take more beer than they 
can properly stand, its effects are not so exciting as 
those produced by the immoderate use of wine or 
spirits. The beer, on most natures, has a stupefying, 
somnolent effect, and is not so apt to make people 
quarrelsome as other stimulants do. It is true that in 
country places, particularly in the districts of Upper 
and Lower Bavaria, on festive occasions, there is often 
a fight, — bloody, and sometimes fatal in its results, — but 
these rows have a sort of premeditated character. 
Those hardy sons of the high countries have a tradi- 
tional itching for a fight, very much *like that of the 
Irishman who throws his coat on the ground and asks 
somebody to please step on it, — very much like that 
imbued in the minds of our own boys when one of them 
with clinched fists and set teeth says invitingly to his 
comrade, "■ Now jes' you knock that chip off of my 
shoulder, will yer?" 

Any one who visits the great October festival at 
Munich, where, on a fine day, perhaps eighty to ninety 
thousand people are together, and sees all, great and 
small, crowded together on the rough benches drink- 
ing beer in such quantities as to be quite appalling to 
a novice to such a scene, will be struck with the order- 
liness, the amicable hilarity of the crowd. There is 
hardly ever a disturbance of any kind. 

I have no sympathy with the man who gets intoxi- 
cated, — he should be ostracized from all respectable 
companionship, — but I have none the more sympathy 
with those weak philosophers who preach tectotalism. 
We do not make crusades against pies and candy and 
conglomerated dinners of antagonistically disposed and 
badly-cooked viands, and yet dyspepsia affects the 
brain and leads to many suicides and other crimes. 
The great thing for our country would be to teach the 
people to enjoy the good things of life without abusing 
them. One of the best checks to the curse of drunk- 



BEER, 339 

enness would be to make good, pure beer, and light, 
healthy wines more accessible to the public. We are 
already making great strides in that direction in our 
country in the introduction of beer in all sections, and 
statisticians tell us that the consumption of whiskey and 
allied spirits is thereby decreasing. 

Then I think we make a grave mistake in so relig- 
iously prohibiting the young from even tasting beer or 
wine, and in investing these beverages to their imagi- 
nations with mysterious qualities, and in inculcating 
in their tender minds the belief that their only effects 
are noxious effects, and that their use is unerringly 
baneful. The young man has many opportunities of 
seeing others drinking and enjoying what is denied to 
him. His fancy and his curiosity are both excited, and 
when the time comes (as it inevitably does) for forcing 
himself from the paternal constraint, he has a hanker- 
ing to taste the forbidden fruit. It has a fascination 
for him he cannot resist, because it has been so long 
forbidden him, and because of its being something so 
new to him, — something yet unexplored, — and, in 
order to prove his manliness, he often takes, at the very 
start, more than is good for him. If children were 
brought up to look upon wine and beer as being only 
hurtful in their abuse, to look upon them as they look 
upon any article of food, as causing sickness if immod- 
erately indulged in, they would not have an unnatural 
craving for these liquors in after-years, and, as both 
wine and beer when taken in moderation, and only 
when the appetite calls for them, are at the same time 
gentle stimulants, they would not have the desire to 
indulge in stronger drinks. 

I do not by any means wish to give the Bavarian 
standard of quantity as one to be recommended to our 
countrymen. We eat a great deal of meat, butter, and 
eggs three times a day at least, and there is therefore 
not the same demand with us for so much malt liquor. 
In Bavaria, it must be recollected, the beer is very nu- 
tritious, and therefore the people eat less solid food 
than we do. They cat more bread, but less meat and 
vegetables than wo. With them beer to a great extent 



340 BEER. 

takes the place of solid food. It is, in fact, often styled 
the liquid bread of the laborer, who generally takes 
beer for breakfast. 

The percentage of alcohol in Bavarian beer is less 
than in any other beer. In the making of beer two 
methods are in general use. The one is by a process 
of infusion, and the other by a process of decoction. 
The object of the mashing is not only to extract the 
sugar and the dextrine which is contained in the malt, 
but also to produce sugar and dextrine from the existing 
starch by the help of the so-called diastase of the malt, 
and a temperature of 60^ Eeaumur(167° Fahrenheit). 

The process of infusion and the process of decoction 
differ from each other in the manner in which the tem- 
perature of the mash is raised to the proper degree for 
producing sugar. In the first-named process (which 
is practised in England, France, and most parts of 
North Germany) the mash is brought up to the proper 
temperature without any part of it reaching the boil- 
ing-point. In the process of decoction, which is the 
one universally practised in Bavaria, the mash is 
brought up to the required temperature by putting a 
part of it in the kettle and heating it to the boiling- 
point, and then conducting if back to the rest of the 
mash in the mash-tub, so that the whole reaches a 
temperature of 42° Eeaumur (126.5° Fahrenheit). A 
part of the whole is then put a second time in the ket- 
tle and brought to a boil, and again returned to the 
rest of the mash, so that it reaches a temperature of 
60° Eeaumur (167° Fahrenheit). The proper tempera- 
ture is generally reached by twice boiling a part of 
the mash, although in some few breweries it may be 
done in three successive boilings. This process, of 
course, takes more time and demands more attention 
than the heating of the whole to a certain temperature 
(from ten to twelve hours are required to finish the 
entire process), but better results are obtained by it. 
It is known as the Bavarian method, and it produces a 
beer richer in dextrine; while by the method of infu- 
sion a beer is produced containing less dextrine, but 
more alcohol. 



BEER. 341 

The Bavarian winter beer contains about four per 
cent., and the summer beer four and a half per cent., of 
alcohol, while English porter contains from six to seven 
per cent., and ale from six to nine per cent., of alcohol. 

The malt used in Bavaria is partly from Bavaria 
itself and from Hungary. Bavaria produces an aver- 
age crop of barley of about sixteen million one hundred 
and fifty thousand bushels, principally raised in Lower 
Bavaria and Lower Franconia. The hops used are 
mostly of Bavarian growth, these being universally 
acknowledged as the best. Bavaria is one of the 
greatest hop countries in Europe. In 1883 the total 
yield of the whole German Empire was about forty- 
two million six hundred thousand pounds, of which 
Bavaria produced twenty-two million pounds, or more 
than half of the whole amount. The Austro-Hunga- 
rian Empire produced the same year nearly ten million 
pounds. The total average of hop lands in the German 
Empire is, in round numbers, one hundred thousand, 
that of Bavaria over fifty-five thousand, that of the 
Austro-Hungarian Empire twenty -nine thousand. The 
exportation of hops from Bavaria to the United States 
varies very much from year to year. During the sea- 
son of 1882 about one million one hundred and eighty 
thousand pounds, of a value of nine hundred and thirty- 
nine thousand dollars, were sent from the consular dis- 
trict of Nuremberg to our country. 

In Germany, the laws in regard to the manner of 
brewing are very stringent: surrogates for either malt 
or hops are restricted to a few articles, which are at 
least innocuous in their properties, whilst all articles 
hurtful to the health are strictly prohibited. 

In Bavaria, the first law regulating the making of 
beer was issued in 1420, allowing brewers to make 
mead and an inferior sort of beer, the restrictions being 
only as to the duration and the nature of fermentation 
(warm fermentation). The materials and their quan- 
tity for a certain amount of beer were not pre8cril)ed, 
but each brewer was bound to make a certain quantity 
of beer in order to meet the demands of the countr}'. 

The process of cold fermentation was introduced in 

29* 



342 BEER. 

Munich in the fifteenth century. It is now practised 
in Bavaria, in most of the countries of Europe (with 
the exception of England and some parts of North 
Germany and Russia), and in the United States. 

There was a law passed in the year 1553 directing 
that hops, barley, and water should be the only sub- 
stances from which beer was to be brewed, and that 
the liquid should be sufficiently cooled before being 
brought to fermentation.* Every brewer was obliged 
to brew two different kinds of beer, — summer beer and 
winter beer, — the price for which was fixed by the gov- 
ernment uniformly for the whole country, the winter 
beer at four hellers per mass (one-third cent per quart), 
the summer beer at fiYQ> hellers per mass (five-twelfths 
of one cent per quart). In Bavaria the beer is only 
brewed in the cold season, from September to the mid- 
dle of April. Part of this beer, after a short storage in 
casks, is consumed during the winter, whence the ap- 
pellation winter beer ; the other part (for which more 
malt and hops are used) remains in the cellars till the 
summer months, and is drunk from the time the brew- 
ing ceases in the spring till it commences again in 
autumn. 

In 1616, owing to the continuous fluctuations in the 
price of barley and hops, a new law, or " beer regula- 
tion," was passed, authorizing each community to make 
fixed prices annually for the summer and the winter 
beer, in accordance with the prices of barley and hops 
and fuel. The said law further prescribed that from 
fiYQ schaffel of malt (31.5 bushels) not more than fif- 
teen eimers (1065 quarts of beer) should be made. 

The principal features of this law remained in force 
until the passing of the new beer regulations of 1811. 
From that time on, until the new trade law of 1867 
was passed, it was only allowed to make seven eimers 
(497 quarts) of winter beer and six eimers (426 quarts) 
of summer beer from one schaffel (6.3 bushels) of malt. 

There are at present no restrictions as to the quantity 
of beer that shall be made from a certain quantity of 

* This law is now in force. 



BEER. 343 

malt, although most brewers, for the sake of their own 
reputation, conform to the usual rule of 2.3 volumes of 
winter beer and 1.9 to 2.0 volumes of summer beer to 
one volume of malt. 

Most of the beer produced in Bavaria is consumed 
in the country itself, only about seven per cent, of the 
whole production being exported. The principal cities 
taking part in this export — which is chiefly to North 
Germany, France, and the United States — are Munich, 
Nuremberg, Erlangen, and Kulmbach. 

The taxes on beer have suffered many variations in 
the course of centuries. The present state tax is one 
dollar and seventeen cents on each 2.8 bushels of malt. 
Besides this, it has been the custom in most cities and 
towns to impose a separate and personal tax upon all 
beer sold within their precincts; this municipal tax 
now amounts in Munich to about fort3-five cents per 
2.8 bushels of malt, and brings an annual income of 
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, being more 
than one dollar to each inhabitant. 

At present most of the Bavarian brewers have their 
own mills for crushing their malt, which b}^ an in- 
genious device measures and registers the quantity of 
malt running through them. No brewer is allowed to 
run his mill without having first declared the amount 
of malt intended to be crushed, nor without having 
paid or secured to be paid the taxes due the state and 
the municipality. The fines inflicted for non-observ- 
ance of the rules prescribed by the tax law vixvy from 
one hundred and fifty to six hundred marks for the 
first offence; for succeeding offences the fine ma}^ ex- 
tend to one thousand eight hundred marks. The 
brewers are in general satisfied with the mode in 
which they are controlled by law, as there is very 
little inconvenience to them in the carrying out of its 
provisions, and the brewing manipulations are in 
nowise impeded thereby. They justl}^ complain, how- 
ever, of the high rate of taxation, wiiich is out of ])ro- 
portion to the prices obtainable for their product. 
The average retail price of the beer is about 5.5 cents 
per quart. 



344 BEER, 

The brewage itself is carefully controlled by the 
authorities, and a brewer who is caught using other 
substances than malt or liops, or selling beer which is 
not in a good condition, is subjected to a heavy fine or 
imprisonment, and his beer is unmercifully emptied 
into the gutter. 

As a proof of the high importance attached to the 
art of brewing is the fact that no labor is as well paid 
in Bavaria as that of the brewer. To be a master- 
brewer in one of the larger establishments in Munich 
or other cities is better than being a cabinet minister 
or a general in the army, — or even a consul : he gets 
more than many a little German prince. In the largest 
breweries a master-brewer receives from five to six 
thousand dollars per annum, and has, besides, a large 
extra income from the sale of the yeast, which he is 
allowed to dispose of for his own account. The yeast, 
after being pressed into a thick mass, is packed into 
wooden or tin boxes isolated by sawdust or some non- 
conductor of heat, and is shipped to all parts of the 
globe. Thus prepared, the yeast is sold for fifty cents 
per pound, and the yield therefrom is equal in some 
cases to twice the regular salary of the master-brewer. 
In addition, the master-brewer is entitled to from 
fifteen to twenty quarts of beer daily, for which checks 
are given, but these checks are good for the day of 
their issue only. He can either drink that beer him- 
self or dispose of it in some other way. All workers 
in the breweries receive in addition to free lodging 
on the premises from four to eight quarts of beer, 
according to their services, but they are not entitled to 
an equivalent in money for the quantity of beer not 
consumed by them. 



CHARACTER OF THE BAVARIANS. 345 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Character of the Bavarians — Fault-finders — Munich beggars — People 
asking for loans — The old Leipsic woman — Sandy-haired man want- 
ing forty florins — American artist slouches — Directory of America — 
" I can prove that I am myself^' — Fifty years behind the time — Con- 
sular speeches— Bribing. 

The Bavarians are a good-natured people. They 
may be rough in their ways and in their expressions, 
but they are free from affectation. They are straight- 
forward, open, and honest, and are full of good-will 
toward each other and toward strangers. Especially 
among the lower classes, one notices that, without being 
servile, they are complaisant and deferential to their 
superiors. One may go into any place which is filled 
with the poorest of the people without fear of any 
personal or unpleasant remarks or signs being made or 
given by them. On the contrary, they feel honored if 
any one, their superior either in intellect, or wealth, or 
station, makes his appearance in their midst. I think 
the higher education of the heart of the common 
people is to a great extent due to the fraternizing 
tendencies of beer in Bavaria. All classes mix so 
freely together at the fane of Gambrinus that the more 
unruly are, from childhood up, accustomed to be held 
in check by the presence of the better educated and the 
better mannered. 

It may, on the other hand, be urged that in the same 
way as the lower class of people are raised by contact 
with their superiors in breeding,^ the latter become 
proportionately lowered thereby; but there are always 
more good people in the world than bad people, more 
well-bred than ill-bred, and the average mixture will 
always turn out with the larger percentage of good. 

The world is full of fault-finders. There are people 
ever on the alert to find out some mistake we have 
made either in word, or in action, or in omission, and 



346 FA UL T- FINDERS, 

are ceaselessly watching for an opportunity to trip us 
up. It seems as if the daily bread of such people was 
the hunting for motes in other people's eyes. They 
sometimes call themselves critics. We are disposed to 
find fault with these fault-finders, and some people set 
them down as intolerable bores. I think we do them in- 
justice. They are a very useful class of people ; they save 
us a world of trouble and a world of labor sometimes. 

If there is anything we do not know, but would like 
to find out, what is the use of our going into any deep 
study for the purpose ? Why should we rack our 
brains in wandering through text-books or commen- 
taries, elaborate treatises, histories, biographies, ency- 
clopaedias, or dictionaries, when we have thousands of 
thoughtful people ready at our elbow and eager to set 
us right? All we have to do is to make some hap- 
hazard statement ; if printed, so much the better. If, 
for instance, I want to find out what the national debt 
of the United States is, or in what year Washington 
was born, I have only to write an article and say at 
random that the former is twenty thousand millions, 
and that the Father of his Country came on the stage 
of existence on the 31st of September, 1702, and I will 
have plenty of people to correct me and to give me the 
exact information : to be sure, they give such correc- 
tions with a malicious fling at our ignorance, but we 
have to swallow that as the coating to the pill that 
brings out the right date and figures. And one good 
thing is, that when we get information in that way we 
are not likely to forget it. 

I have, somewhere in the middle of this book, 
inadvertently made an assertion or stated a supposition, 
which I now find I am not quite clear about, nor have 
I the means at hand to find out about it, but if I happen 
to have any readers at all, there will be some consider- 
ate person among them who will enlighten me. 

If there were only one beggar in the world, what a 
rich man he would be ! Each heart would certainly 
expand towards him to the extent of helping him 
on a long way towards competency. 



BEGGARS 347 

But when it comes to dividing up our charity in 
about quarter-hourly doses, we feel that it is such a de- 
mand on our time and our small stock of naughty words 
that we became very chary of our cash, so that we are 
often thereby prevented from diving into our pockets 
as deeply as we would like to. 

Among the crowd which honored me with its visits 
was an old lady who was a periodical: I don't mean a 
periodical that comes out once a month, but one that ap- 
pears about every third day. I got in the habit of giving 
her ten pfennigs (about two and a half cents) every 
time she came. This was continued for a year or so. I 
then moved my office, and the old lady was not slow in 
finding my new quarters. I suppose the expenses of 
moving must have been pretty heavy, at any rate I had 
a feeling that I ought to retrench, generally, my out- 
lays, so when she came as usual, with her usual courtesy 
and her usual appeal, I gave her only five pfennigs. 
She did not make any remark, merely thanking me less 
heartily than of yore, and turning the coin over in her 
palm, with a searching look out of her bleary old eyes, 
she went off. The second time she came to the new 
abode, I again, remembering my resolution to econo- 
mize, gave her only five pfennigs. 

This was too much for her, — or rather, too little, — 
she seemed to think if that sort of thing was to go on 
it was time for her to put a stop to it. She held out 
the piece in her hand and said she supposed I had made 
a mistake, as she was accustomed to getting ten pfen- 
nigs, and not five. I felt convicted, but managed to ex- 
plain ; basing the reduction of the alms on the grounds 
that the necessaries of life had gone up so immensely 
in price during the last few years (here she groaned 
and nodded her head confirming!}^), that the salary had 
not been proportionately increased, while competition 
in her line had more than doubled. My arguments 
were not convincin<]^, and my language not as soothing 
as I had hoped. The old lady flared up and said she 
had not expected such treatment at such a house. 
I well knew, she said, that none had been so regular 
as she, and that she lived a great way off, and that 



348 BEGGARS. 

she really could not come so far unless she got what 
she had been in the habit of getting. She could tell 
me that poor people had their troubles as well as 
others, and their duties, too : she had prayed for me 
and for the whole family every day since she first came 
to the office, — if it were my intention that in future 
she should get only five pfennigs, she really couldn't 
come any more. 

By being persistent in my resolution I lost her 
friendship and her sympathy and her prayers. But 
there were soon others to take her place. 

Street-begging in Munich is a thing that is scarcely 
ever seen, for it is prohibited, and the police are terri- 
bly on the alert to catch such offenders, but begging in 
the houses is carried on to a fearful extent, and the 
beggars have certain advantages which they do not 
have in all cities. The front doors of the Munich 
houses stand either quite open, or they are at least un- 
locked, during the daytime. The beggar, therefore, 
does not have to stand at the street-door ringing a bell 
to get admittance. He can so easily glide into any 
house, and then go from story to story to make his 
calls undisturbed by any police-officer. In almost each 
hall-way is posted a large notice that begging and 
peddling is strictly prohibited, and that parties caught 
in the act will be dealt with according to law; it has 
little eifect. 

But even among the worst of Munich beggai'S one 
does not see such ragged misery, such evidences of ab- 
ject destitution, as one mostly sees in other countries. 
One does not see such specimens where it looks, not as 
if the rags would not hold together, but as if they had 
no connection with each other and were only glued to 
the skin by the filth and grime that cover it. Per- 
haps from his being accustomed to paying his visits in 
the houses, the Munich beggar keeps himself a trifle 
more decent than street beggars. The Munich beggar 
don't care so much for scraps of meat or crusts of 
bread ; he'd much rather have the money, for then he 
can go to the tavern for his food and drink, where he 
will find the most congenial company. Of course the 



ASKING FOR LOANS, 349 

consulate comes in for its full share of the patronage 
of these people. 

The downright beggar is a jewel to those insidious 
individuals who ask for a small loan, and make prom- 
ises of paying it back again. I would rather have fifty 
dirty beggars to deal with than one shabby-genteel per- 
son who makes such scruples of asking for assistance 
that he will not accept it as charity. 

An old woman, — I recollect her so well, for she put 
me in mind of Mrs. Jarley, and I believe she was in 
some kindred line of business, — with a fancy head-dress 
full of flowers and frills, had a son and other children 
in America. She was from Saxony, and she spoke the 
Saxon dialect in its most winning form. Her son should 
have sent her money to join him in the United States, 
but either his purse or his filial affection had given out, 
and he had disappointed her. He was such a good son, 
too, and the old woman was sure somebedy must have 
bewitched him or he would have sent her the promised 
money. She knew there were witches in America as well 
as in Germany. The woman wanted the consul to lend 
her eight dollars to get to Hamburg with, where she 
knew she could find a position as stewardess on a ship, 
and thus get over. She made quite a demonstration at 
the office, wringing her hands and crjnng copiously. 
" By heaven," she said, " I will pay it back to you when 
I get to Hamburg, and pay you two dollars on top of 
it, — willingly, willingly." It was nearly an hour before 
I could get rid of her, and then onl}'^ by the opportune 
appearance of two gentlemen who came on business. 
When she at last l^ft, the whole floor was wet from her 
tears as if a dripping umbrella had been carried about. 

The next day a short, sandy-haired man called, in a 
check hunting suit, rather greasy around the collar, 
and with check linen which had not been to the wash- 
erwoman's for some time. I saw by the gleam of his 
eye that he was not a beggar, but still that he wanted 
something. It was therefore necessary to put on an 
extra coating of politeness. 

30 



350 ASKING FOR LOANS. 

^' Are you the American counsel, sir?" 

" Yes, sir. Are you an American too, sir ?" 

" Yes, sir, I guess I am. Where do you hail from, 
counsel ?" 

"Philadelphia;^ 

" I'm from Burlington, Vermont, sir." 

" Very happy indeed." 

"I've brought over the ^Jigger Brothers,' the cele- 
brated acrobats and jugglers, and want to play at the 

theatre here, but can't get an engagement till 

next month ; I'm on my way to Vienna now, and I 
find I'm just forty florins short. I^ow, sir, I have just 
come to you to ask you if you can accommodate me 
w^ith forty florins for a few days, which I will " 

" Very sorry, etc. ; have been obliged to make it a 
rule, etc." 

" So 3^ou don't want to lend me forty florins?'* 

" Well, sir, I am afraid, sir " 

" Then you mean to say you won't lend me forty 
florins?" 

" I'm afraid you'll have to put that construction on 
it." 

" Very well, sir, that's all I wanted to know." 

Taking out his note-book and pencil, and with a very 
severe expression of countenance, "Let me see, sir, 
your name I think is so and so," — writing it down very 
slowly, and speaking each letter aloud as he entered it, 
and glancing up at me with a withering look at each 
letter. " Very well, sir, — good-day, sir." 

"Good-morning, sir." 

He shot up from his seat, and rushed out of the 
house as if he hadn't a moment to, lose before getting 
to the next consul. 

I expected to get a hauling over the coals from the 
State Department in its next despatch, but I was spared 
that time. 

The American is bound to do everything on an ex- 
tensive scale ; he is used to big things. When he 
comes to the classic ground of art in Europe, and sees 
his colleagues of the brush and the chisel going into 



AMERICAN ARTIST SLOUCHES. 351 

vagaries of art even as far as their dress and the style 
of wearing their hair is affected thereby, l\e goes in for 
carrying the thing still further, — he out- vagaries them 
all. When he gets slouchy, he gets very slouchy. 
He'll swear off from the barbers and take pains to ram 
his hat into all kinds of artistic shapes, wearing crum- 
pled linen and baggy clothing. Yet, may he affect 
ever so much carelessness as to the fit of his garments, 
there is not the grace of naivete about his whole get 
up which characterizes the appearance of such as are 
to the manner born ; there is not the bandit-like ease 
in the sling of those rags which ought to accompany 
the wearing of them. Our American artist slouch is 
only playing a part ; he knows well he would not dare 
to appear in such a costume at home. He can do as 
he pleases abroad ; he knows that he has more freedom 
there, — at least as far as dress goes. 

After all, this forceful way of trying to give oneself 
an artistic air is only another phase of swellism. I 
have often noticed how just the very men that were 
most outre in their dress in the direction of slovenli- 
ness, would, upon the slightest provocation, become 
dandies of the first water, undergoing a change as to 
their outward man to which the transmogrification of 
Cinderella by the fairy's wand was as nothing. This 
clearl}^ proves that such vagaries of dress as we often 
Bee displayed by our art students abroad are but a 
form of affectation which appear ridiculous to those 
who see beneath the surface. 

I knew one young man who was quite a model of 
the recklessness of genius, whose mind was so absorbed 
in his labor — in his dreams of immortality — that he 
could not bestow a thought upon his apparel. His 
shirts resembled the pockets of most of his colleagues, 
— there was no change in them ; his collars were no- 
Avhere, and his outward clothes had almost as much 
paint on them as his pictures, and they looked as if ho 
were accustomed to sleeping in them not on his ])allet, 
but really on his palette. He was sometimes called 
Joseph, because he had on a coat of many colors. 

And yet this very man, when he left Munich and 



352 DIRECTORY OF AMERICA. 

went to London, became, I was told, the greatest swell 
imaginable. He could get no stove-pipe glossy enough, 
he could get no gloves fawny enough, he could get no 
boots bright or tight enough, no shirt-front spotless 
enough, and his fingers and bosom sparkled with the 
pastiest of diamonds. 

An old lady wanted to write to some relatives who 
had gone over to the United States many years ago, 
and she had never heard from them since. She had 
some important news to communicate to them now, 
but she didn't know their address. She asked me if I 
hadn't any " address book" (directory) of America. 

A party writing from Eatisbon in regard to making 
an acknowledgment to a notarial paper, wants to know 
what proofs are required at the consulate as to his 
identity, as to his being the person who executed the 
instrument. He put it in this form: "My mother-in- 
law says I must ask you if you require me to bring 
any paper to prove that I am myself. I could bring 
my marriage certificate if you wish it." 

Happy man, with a mother-in-law who can bring a 
marriage certificate as proof that he is still himself. 

Americans often make the remark that everything 
is fifty years behind the age in Germany, and wonder 
how I could manage to stay so long in such a country. 

But if that be so, is it not of some advantage to feel 
that you gain just fifty years thereby, — that you are 
fifty years younger than your birth register makes 
you ? AVhile my school-fellows are plodding along on 
the shady side of manhood at home, I shall still feel 
like a sporting child over on the old side of the water. 

When on any occasion of social entertainment the 
consul is called on to make a speech, and he is not of 
the speechifying kind, he can always fall back on the 
statement that his instructions are that there are cer- 
tain matters which he must not allude to in public 
speeches, and that paragraph 423 of the Consular Regu- 



ATTEMPTED BRIBERY. 353 

lations further says : ^* It is a still better rule to avoid 
public speeches when it can be done without ex- 
citing feeling (the Eegulations do not say what kind 
of feeling) in the community in which the officer 
resides." In this way he can beat a graceful retreat, 
by hoping that no " feeling" will be excited in the com- 
munity if he remains silent. He is spared the embar- 
rassment of plugging his thumbs on the table-cloth and 
hunting for ideas and words in odd corners of the 
ceiling, and the company is generally satisfied with his 
humorous explanation. 

I need scarcely add that this piece of pleasantry is 
common property of all consuls. 

One day a lady called, wanting to see the consul on 
a very delicate matter. She was a German by birth, 
but had lived in the United States a longtime and had 
returned to her native land on a visit. She was richly 
and stylishly dressed. 

The gist of her narrative was that she had an oppor- 
tunity of marrying in Germany — an extraordinarily 
good match — to a man of title, — if the thing could bo 
done quickly. There was but one impediment in the 
way, rumors of which had come to the ears of the 
relatives of the other party. 

The lady was already married in the United States, 
and her husband was still living. 

She explained to me, however, that the match there 
had been a runaway match, and that the ceremony had 
been performed in an out-of-the-way place by an out- 
of-the-way clergyman. She showed me her marriage 
certificate in confidence, in the hope that I might find 
some flaw in it. She said that such things (tying the 
nuptial knot she meant) were often done in such a 
loose way in the United States, that there was always 
a question whether in such cases the marriage were 
really valid. In her case, the thing having been done 
in a hurry and the witnesses being dead, and her hus- 
band having treated her very badly, she really could 
scarcely consider her marriage lawful. At any rate, 
she thought it was possible for me, under the circura- 
X 30* 



354 ATTEMPTED BRIBERY, 

stances, to give her a certificate that her supposed mar- 
riage in America was not a legal one and not binding 
on her; if this could be done, she said, there would be 
no hindrance in the way. It is needless to repeat her 
arguments upon my telling her that a proof of non- 
marriage would always be a negative proof only, but 
that in her case, after having seen her marriage certifi- 
cate, I had positive proof that she was married. Then 
the lady gently hinted that she would pay liberally for 
my services if I would only help her, and that she had 
as great an object in keeping secret as I. 

Such a startling proposition led me to fall back upon 
stratagem, for I could hardly believe that it was 
earnestly meant. I darkly referred to the danger ac- 
compan^^ing such an action, and doubted whether she 
were able to pay the price for such a service. She, of 
course, did not understand me. She gave me a look full 
of meaning and quietly replied, " I am wealthy, sir." 

It then became necessary for me to explain to her in 
words that probably wounded her feelings that she had 
better, for her own peace of mind, not try to tread such 
crooked paths, and that the way out of the consulate 
was a very straight one. 

That night, instead of falling asleep as I ought to 
have done, I fell into a certain train of reflection. I 
w^ondered whether people (and there are many such) 
who have the hardihood to try to bribe a public officer, 
or any other person, ever bring their minds to bear 
upon the real nature of the services they demand ; 
whether they ever attempt to weigh the compensation 
they are willing to give with the loss entailed on the 
other party, — the loss of a clear conscience, — the sur- 
render of moral character. I suppose there are many 
persons who could be bought if they could obtain their 
just price; but as that price can never be paid, they 
cannot give themselves away for anything less. What 
is that price? To sell oneself in the manner contem- 
plated by those who offer a bribe, one should receive as 
an equivalent a bandage to close the eyes against every 
power of discrimination between w^hat is right and 
what is wrong, — a salve to heal the conscience of every 



CLOSET SKELETONS. 355 

pang, and a polish to clear it of every upbraiding, — a 
wad to close the ears to every whisper of self-reproach, 
and £C mirror in which one sees one's soul free from 
stain, — a gauge which shows us that we have not fallen 
in our self-respect, — a soothing monitor, which tells us 
that we have acted uprightly, which tells us we can 
still hold up our heads before our fellow-men with the 
same consciousness of our worth as we did before. 

Until such a price can be paid we must reject all 
offers, — and such a price is not to be found in the purses 
or in the bank accounts of the richest on earth. 



CHAPTEE XXIII. 

Closet skeletons — Politeness of King Maximilian — Artists' balls — Ameri- 
can keeping his hat on — *' Cussing" — Count Rumford — A corner in 
wheat — Health of Munich — Murray's Handbook for South Germany — 
An ominous paragraph — Letter of Dr. Frank to Mr. Murray — Extracts 
from Dr. Frank's letter — Death-rate of various cities — Death-rate of 
Munich — Explaining the above — Mortality of young children — Causes 
of the above — The marriage laws — Baby-farmers — Making deductions 
— Munich as healthy as most large cities — The typhus — The cholera — 
The year 1854 in Munich — The epidemic of 1873 and 1874 — Cholera in 
American cities — First death from cholera; an American — Death of 
Kaulbach — Fears of the cholera — Former condition of Munich — The 
soil of Munich — The water-supply — Improvements in Munich — Climate 
of Munich — How to dress — Rain — Sundry diseases. 

The cases laid before a consul in which his advice, his 
assistance, or his intercession is requested, are some- 
times of the most delicate and personal nature. Matters 
concerning the most intimate relationships in life are 
sometimes imparted to him that would not be imparted 
to any one else. The closet skeletons presented to a 
consul's view are enough to fill a respectable-sized 
graveyard. Mr. Tulkinghorn's secrets were as nothing 
to them. The consul buries them in his bosom ; well 
might he at times write over the door of his private 
office as the street amanuenses of Paris do over their 
stalls, — "Au tombcau des secrets." 



356 POLITENESS OF KING MAXIMILIAN. 

King Maximilian, the father of the present king, was 
a very amiable man, and a man of thorough good breed- 
ing. On my first visit to Munich, when Maximilian 
was on the throne, there was a little story going the 
rounds of an occurrence at a ball, in which an Ameri- 
can was concerned. I was present at the ball, but 
not a witness of the scene, which was thus described by 
my friends. 

I must first state that it is the custom of the Munich 
artists to give, during the carnival, a grand costume 
ball. These balls are the great event of the season, and 
are magnificently gotten up. The costumes of all the 
participants are made from drawings furnished by the 
artists, and are always historically correct. The artists 
sit in open committee for several weeks before to give 
assistance and advice in regard to the cut of the gar- 
ments, the stuffs to be selected, the colors to be used, 
etc. 

The first ball of the kind which I saw had for its sub- 
ject the triumphal entry of Rubens into Antwerp upon 
his marriage with his second wife, Helena Fromann. 
It was a gorgeous sight. The hall was sumptuously 
decorated. At the end was a raised platform sur- 
rounded with a heavy balustrade and broad steps lead- 
ing up to it like a garden terrace, and overlooking the 
Scheldt, with an immense canvas covering the entire 
wall on which was painted a view of the city of Ant- 
werp lying on the river. Large trees and plants upon 
the terrace framed it in, and looking out from the in- 
terior of the hall it appeared as if it were open and one 
were gazing on a real city, on real water. Another of 
these balls had for its subject the period of the Reforma- 
tion. Another, the fairy-tales Cinderella, Little Red 
Riding-Hood, Sleeping Beauty, Bluebeard, Beauty and 
the Beast, etc., each represented by a separate group. 

The ball in question was a mere fancy ball without 
any particular costume being prescribed ; it was only 
required that the ladies should wear some fantastic 
head-dress, and that gentlemen who came in modern 
ball-dress put on an odd-looking hat or cap which was 
supplied at the entrance to the hall. These caps were 



AMERICAN KEEPING HIS HAT ON. 357 

worn the whole evening, and were not taken off even 
during the dancing. 

The young gentleman with whom the story had to 
do was a student,— of medicine, I think. He had a tall 
and conspicuous figure, and his fancy cap could be seen 
bobbing around over the heads of most of the people 
there. This gentleman was, at the time, engaged to a 
Munich lady, quite accomplished, and who spoke Eng- 
lish exceedingly well. 

It was the habit of the king to attend these balls, if 
only for a couple of hours, but he had the privilege, of 
course, of appearing with his stove-pipe hat in his 
hand instead of donning the fancy cap. As he walked 
around, accompanied by his adjutant and some of the 
ball committee, the crowd drew back to a respectable 
distance that he might have a clear space about him, 
and all the gentlemen in his vicinity uncovered their 
heads. On ascending the platform at the upper end 
of the hall, the king stopped to take a comprehensive 
view of the animated scene before him. Just on the 
platform, at the same time, happened to stand our 
American friend with hm fiancee on his arm. The king 
immediately recognized the lady, as she had on a 
former occasion been presented to him, and commenced 
talking with her. She appeared to be introducing her 
intended, who quite unreservedly joined in the conver- 
sation, but — oh, horror ! — he didn't take off his hat. It 
was quite shocking to the bystanders, but it was still 
more shocking to the Munich lady, who felt that all 
eyes were riveted on her lover, standing there talking 
so familiarly with his hat on his head to roj^alty with 
his hat in his hand. The king alone appeared not to 
notice it. But this painful situation was too much for 
the lady; she tried to give her future husband some 
sign to call him to his senses: indeed, some of her 
glances at him were such as generally come only after 
marriage. Finding she could not attract his attention 
in that way, she began nudging him with her elbow, 
but he did not understand what that was for either. 
As she kept on nudging him, however, each time a 
little harder than before, he at last got out of patience 



358 ''CUSSING.'' 

and gave her a nudge back, — a concentrated nudge, 
but in doing so he accidentally knocked against the 
king's arm, and the sudden jar knocked the king's hat 
out of his hand. But who didn't pick it up ? — that was 
our American friend, who was so consternated that he 
didn't know what to do. Several gentlemen rushed 
forward to clutch up the hat and hand it to the king, 
but the king was quicker than any of them, and 
stooping, with a smile, he had it in his hand again and 
went on with the conversation as if nothing had hap- 
pened. 

One can imagine that this little episode was quite 
the talk for some time, and the Munich lady had a hard 
conflict between her loyalty for her king and her loy- 
alty for her lover. 

" I've come to do a little cussing." That is the fa- 
vorite mode of expression with a good many people 
who come to the consulate to take an oath. Even one 
of our most noted humorists introduced himself to me 
in the above words. I must confess I had expected 
something better of him, — something more original. 

It always made me feel a little queer when, in such 
cases, I considered it my duty to call the attention of 
such blithe and airy customers to the solemnity of an 
oath, and to remind them of the responsibility they in- 
curred in taking it. They looked at me wonderinglj^. 
Their idea of an oath mostly seemed to be that it was 
a mere matter of form, and that the only thing needed 
was to have the consular seal stuck on the paper to 
make it all right. 

In cases where people who were abroad were about 
sending some of their chattels home, and wanted to 
make a sworn statement at the consulate that such ar- 
ticles had been in use by them abroad, and that they 
were not intended for any other person nor for sale, 
they took a still lighter view of the matter, and their 
gay remark was, " Oh, well, it's only for the custom- 
house," as if any kind of an oath were good enough 
for that. 

There is scarcely a country where so much swearing 



''CUSSING.'' 359 

is done, where so many oflScers are entitled to admin- 
ister oaths as in ours, and it is not that we attach less 
importance to the fact itself, but because from the very 
frequency of the ceremony it is attended with so little 
ceremony tliat we come to look upon the taking of an 
oath as simply a part of business routine which is es- 
sential to the finishing of the matter in hand, in the 
same way that the date and the signature are essential 
parts of the letter. 

With consuls, the administering of oaths is quite a 
common and every-day part of their business. It often 
happens that an affidavit is required of some person 
temporarily abroad to be used as a matter of proof at 
home, and the party repairs to the consul at the place 
where he happens to be, or if there is no consul there, 
to the nearest place where there is one, to swear to his 
statement and have the official attestation attached. 
In matters of controversy, or in trials pending in our 
courts, where a necessary witness is out of the country, 
a commission is issued by the court to the consul to 
take the depositions of such witnesses to be used in 
court as testimony. Sometimes in private matters an 
oath is necessary to strengthen the assertion of some 
persons. Often, too, in mercantile affairs, it is required 
of a merchant to make an exhibit of his books before a 
consul, and to swear to the correctness of certain trans- 
actions. The occasions for taking an oath are innu- 
merable. The Department of State is a great stickler 
for oaths. After a consul has, at the time of his ap- 
pointment, taken an oath in general to conscientiously 
attend to the business and render just and true ac- 
counts, he must again at the end of each quarter make 
an oath that that particular account is correct, lie 
swears this to his vice-consul. If his vice-consul is 
sick or out of town, he swears it to his agent. 

But why should not a man's word be considered as 
good as his bond ? Why could not a man's statoinent, 
made by him in open court, or signed by him in tlio 
presence of witnesses, be taken as an asseveration, and 
why should not a false statement, made under such cir- 
cumstances, be punishable the same as perjury is now ? 



360 A MONUMENTAL CITY, 

When a man signs his name to a bill we require no- 
thing of him but his signature, yet there is nothing he 
holds of more sacredness than to meet that bill when 
it is due. 

It is not right to give so many petty officers the 
power of administering oaths. Nine-tenths of them 
think nothing of the sanctity of the proceeding; they 
merely look upon it as a matter which brings a fee to 
their pockets. The business like way in which oaths 
arc- generally administered is really dragging down all 
religious reverence into the mire. If it is meant that 
an oath should be considered as a direct appeal to the 
Almighty to punish us if we are not speaking or acting 
the truth, it would be well to find out if the person 
making the oath have any religion at all. For those 
who have none, there is only the fear of the law before 
them, and for such it is easy enough for the law to 
make them responsible for their statements. But we 
require an oath for the acceptation of ever}^ proof It 
seems as if nothing were to be believed in our country 
unless it is spiced with an oath. 

Baltimore is called the Monumental City because it 
has three monuments. What, then, should Munich be 
called, which has over thirty public monuments stand- 
ing in its streets and squares, all of colossal size ? 
The Bavaria, indeed, is the biggest thing out, and will 
remain so until " Liberty" gets a firm footing on our 
shore. Besides these monuments erected to the mem- 
ory of celebrated men, there are a score or more of 
fountains, groups, and allegorical figu^;es scattered 
around the public places. So great is the rage for 
putting up monuments to great men in Munich that 
the trouble is to find great men enough to satisfy the 
artistic demand. It is no wonder that they some- 
times are obliged to take a foreigner to expend their 
superfluous bronze on. Even one of our own country- 
men stands, with cane in hand, and pigtail hanging 
down his back, in one of the most beautiful parts of 
Munich, looking benignly down upon the crowds of 
promenaders that pass him. 



COUNT RUM FORD. 361 

Benjamin Thompson, afterwards Count Eumford, was 
born at North Woburn, Massachusetts, in 1753, but in 
the matter of patriotism his character is somewhat ques- 
tionable. He was a roj^alist, and took part against the 
Eevolutionary cause. After being in England for some 
years, he met at Strassburg in 1801 the future Elector 
Maximilian, of Bavaria, who was so charmed with his 
manners, his intelligence, and his views of military 
matters, that he invited him to come to Munich, where 
he was successively advanced from one position of 
trust to another. Although Thompson did nothing to 
the advantage of his native country, he did a great 
deal for Bavaria, — enough to justify the Bavarians in 
giving him a public monument. His first efforts were 
directed to the amelioration of the condition of the 
common soldier, by making great reforms in the sani- 
tary condition of the barracks, and by providing them 
w^ith wholesome food, which, through improvements in 
the manner of preparing it and cooking it, and a more 
economic manner of procuring the materials, was much 
better than w^hat the soldiers had been receiving, and 
yet was no greater expense to the government. He 
also did much for the poor ; he founded soup-houses 
which are yet called by his name. He wrote many 
valuable essays on pauperism. But his principal work, 
and of which present generations have the benefit, was 
the laying out of the English Garden, the great park 
of Munich, in 1789, under the Elector Carl Theodor. 
Less than a hundred years ago these beautiful grounds 
w^ere a dreary w^aste of pebbly strand and marshy 
meadow, with scarcely a tree upon it. 

In 1871 the American Academy of Arts and Sciences 
published at Boston a very exhaustive biography of 
Count Eumford, written by George E. Ellis. 

1 once had an invoice to authenticate which quite 
tickled me, and I have no doubt it tickled the recipients, 
too. The party sending the merchandise intended to 
be complimentary. It was a consignment of hops, 

addressed to "Messrs. & Co., proprietors of a 

corner in wheat in New York." 
Q 81 



362^ HEALTH OF MUNICH 

I believe many people are deterred from coming to 
Munich because they have heard on all hands that it 
is such an unhealthy place. 

In Murray's " Handbook for South Germany" for 
1867 it says, " Munich is a city of one hundred and 
sixty-six thousand inhabitants, and one of the highest 
cities of Europe, the climate of which is variable and 
unhealthy." As succeeding editions of the book were 
published the increase of the population was duly 
noticed, but otherwise the sentence remained unaltered. 

Some years ago Murray was the only companion of 
the wandering Englishman and American in Europe. 
Murray was the father of guide-book makers. The 
many excellent works that have latterly sprung up are 
all modelled after his. They still retain the character- 
istic red cover ; they are still arranged on the plan 
originated b}'' Murray, and it is not going too far to say 
that many of them were freely copied from Murray. 
At any rate, it was through such sources that travel- 
lers all got the impression that Munich was a dread- 
fully unhealthy city, a dangerous city, a city of the 
pest, — the breeding-place of the typhus. 

Every one knows what an influence the guide-book 
has on the general traveller. One can see it in every 
street, in every gallery, in every church, in every rail- 
road car, and on every steamboat, how religiously 
these books are studied. Their columns are doubly 
and triply perused. They are studied before starting 
on the journey, so as to be posted up as to what ought 
to be seen ; they are devoutly read when standing in 
front of the objects described (it is much better than 
looking at the things themselves), and they are gone 
over again when one returns home, so that one may 
know what to talk about. 

Murra}^, the forerunner of them all, has left his 
impress on his followers. Years ago he was the only 
one that spoke to us in our own language, and his red 
breast was pressed in many a warm embrace by trav- 
ellers of both sexes, both of Albion and of Columbia. 
A young man at home, who had never travelled, and 
whose affianced bride was doing Europe with her par- 



MURRArS ''HANDBOOK.'' 363 

ents, was driven to the verge of distraction, to the 
greenest depths of jealousy, when in one of her letters 
she innocently wrote, " From the moment I arrived in 
Europe, and wherever I roam, — by day and by night, 
Murray is my faithful and inseparable companion." 

Murray tells the traveller what he must see and 
what he must do, what he must eat and what he must 
pay; how he must dress and how he must act; and 
indeed, the pile of information heaped up in the body 
of the work is as reliable and useful as the paternal 
advice in the introductory chapter is sound and whole- 
some. Murray takes the traveller by the buttonhole 
and says, "Look here, friend, don't you believe what 
other people tell you, but do you go according to me, 
and you're all right." Murray tells us just what we 
want to know in travelling: he helps us along in our 
history, and in our dates, and in our geography; he 
kindly catches us under the arm when we are liable to 
stumble into some architectural, mythological, or artis- 
tical slough; he strews poetical patches of Byron and 
other pathos in our path which come so a propos in 
filling up letters home ; he tells us on high art authority 
what pictures are to be examined and what particular 
parts are to be admired, so that we may boldly and 
without fear stalk up to the well-browned canvas and 
point out beauties in its blackest depths, and then, 
after having worked ourselves tired and hungry, he 
leads us to the best and nearest restoring place, and 
shows us upon the bill of fare the particular delicacy 
for which the restaurant we are just in is celebrated. 
Then, indeed, as we stretch our wearied limbs under 
the table and reverse the tension of our necks, stiffened 
from gazing upwards on martyred saints above the line, 
and frescoed nymphs on far-off ceilings, by gazing 
downwards upon the palatable things before us, — then 
indeed, do we fully appreciate the varied merits of 
our versatile friend, and as the delicious wine, or the 
cool, frothy beer which he has recommended tingles 
over our tongues, — then we exclaim, "Yes, it is true, 
Murray is a great man, long may he live." 

Is it, then, to bo wondered at that a paragraph so 



364 SANITARY CONDITION OF MUNICH. 

ominous as the one just quoted concerning the unhealth- 
fulness of Munich should deter hundreds from stopping 
there, — should, in fact, deter many from going thereat 
all ? Is it to be wondered at that the authorities of 
the good city of Munich should at last think it worth 
while to try to put an end to a paragraph that had 
done so much injury to its reputation, by sending an 
open letter to Murray requesting him to alter that 
paragraph, and showing good reasons why he should, in 
common justice, do so. 

In 1867 the town councils took the matter into con- 
sideration, and the Chief of the Municipal Board of 
Health, Dr. M. Prank, was instructed to write out a re- 
port on the sanitary condition of Munich, which report 
was addressed to Mr. Murray, and which drew from 
the latter the reply that although in former years the 
application of the word unhealthy to Munich seemed to 
him to have been correct, yet he was now convinced 
that such was no longer the case, and that he would 
take the opportunity in future editions of his work to 
alter the statement, and to impress upon the travelling 
public the fact that Munich is just as healthy a place 
as the average of large cities. So much for Mr. Mur- 
ray. I have not looked at the later editions of his 
book, but presume he made the promised correction. 

I have spent so many years in the beautiful Bavarian 
capital, I have been treated with so much kindness by 
its inhabitants, I have drunk in the many aesthetic 
pleasures which Munich spreads out so copiously, that 
I feel it would be unpardonable in me if I did not do 
everything in my power to place things in their true 
light, and to try to counteract the wide-spread impres- 
sion of its unhealthfulness, which only those have who 
do not know Munich well. As a help to doing this, I 
cannot do better than to give a few extracts from the 
pamphlet of Dr. Frank. 

My light and easy reader, do not fear that I will heap 
dry statistics upon you : I wish to make this particularly 
one of the chapters which you do not skip. I do not 
wish to bother you with too many figures, which al- 
ways look so formidable in a book of this kind, but 



DEATH-RATE OF VARIOUS CITIES. 3G5 

refer those who wish to have all the details to the 
work itself, " Ueber die Gesundheits Verhaeltnisse 
Muenchens — Ein offenes Sendschreiben von Dr. M. 
Frank, Muenchen, 1870." 

I shall first give a summary of Dr. Frank's letter, the 
data of which reach only to the end of the year 1869, 
and shall then state the results of observations made 
from that year to the present time. 

Dr. Frank says, *' The climate and the sanitary con- 
dition of our Munich are so decried by Englishmen and 
Americans, that, as I am credibly informed, many of 
them have the greatest fear of setting foot in our city, 
let alone of staying here for any time. This fear has 
to a great extent been engendered by a paragraph in 
Murray's 'Handbook for South Germany,' which is in 
the hands of thousands of tourists. It is now high 
time to combat this false statement, and to produce the 
proof that our climate is not unwholesome, — not worse 
than that of hundreds of other cities which strangers 
visit and sojourn in without the slightest compunction, 
— and to show that the sanitary condition of Munich is 
better than that of man}" other cities of the same size, 
as the statistical figures bearing on this subject prove." 

The writer states that having been (at that time) for 
the last seventeen years Chief of the District Board of 
Health, and it being his duty to make monthly official 
reports on the sanitary condition and mortality of 
Munich, and being a sworn officer of the crown, he has 
the best opportunity of procuring reliable information, 
and is bound, by virtue of his office, to give an impartial 
statement on the subject. 

According to Oesterlein, "Handbook of Medical 
Statistics," and Hausner, " Comparative Statistics of 
Europe," the average death-rate of the principal cities 
of Europe is as follows. In Geneva, which figures as 
the healthiest city, the number of deaths per thousand 
inhabitants is 22. Next comes FranUfurt-on-tho-Main 
with 24 deaths per thousand. London, despite the 
crowded and filthy state in which the poorer classes 
dwell (and how squalid is the wretchedness of the ])oor 
there I), — London, despite its fogs and rains and damp- 

31* 



366 DEATH-RATE OF MUNICH, 

ness, and coal-smoke, and the villanous smells which 
used to rise from the Thames, has always been and still 
is one of the healthiest cities. The mortality remains 
almost steadily fixed at 24 per thousand. Stuttgart, 
where so many of our countrymen sojourn, has 25 per 
thousand. Lubeck, 26 ; Leipzig and Berlin, about 28 ; 
Paris and Cologne, each 29 ; St. Petersburg, a little 
over 32 ; Florence, 33 ; Dresden, another German 
asylum for our countrymen, and Hamburg, each 34 ; 
Konigsberg, 35; Liverpool, 36; Prague, Amsterdam, 
and Eome, each from 39 to 40 ; Vienna, 40 ; Stock- 
holm, 41 ; and Pest, 42. The mortality in our cities is 
not so high, generally, with the exception of New Or- 
leans, which is given as 42J per thousand. New York 
for the last Qve years is given at 27i per thousand ; 
Jersey City for the last nine years at a trifle over 24, 
and Brooklyn at 33J per thousand. Baltimore from 
1850 to 1880 had 24J deaths per thousand inhabitants, 
and from 1881 to 1883 about 22^ per thousand. The 
figures given for the foregoing foreign cities are taken 
some years back ; it is possible tbere may be some 
slight improvement in them at the present day. 

In Munich, the average number of deaths per thou- 
sand inhabitants for a period of about twenty years 
back is 33J. 

This figure is very high, and to those who put their 
confidence in figures alone, Munich would certainly 
appear to compare unfavorably with most other cities, 
and those who hastil}^ scan the columns of statistical 
works would be sure to stamp Munich as an unhealthy 
place, because so many people die there. But some 
Tvords of explanation are necessary here to account for 
the discrepancy between the statement that Munich is 
no worse in a sanitary point of view than many other 
large cities, and the apparent high rate of mortality 
which it exhibits in figures. 

I may begin by saying that the Munichcrs are strong, 
hearty, and enduring, and the number of persons that 
reach the age of eighty, ninety, and even beyond ninety 
years is as great as anywhere else. It is the first year 
of life that is trying to the little monks, and that is 



MARRIAGE LAWS. 367 

where bo many of them fall, and the percentage of the^e 
deaths is conspicuously large, for in Munich nearly one- 
half of all the deaths take place during the first year of 
the existence of its incipient citizens, whereas in most 
other large European cities only about thirty to thirty- 
three per cent, of all deaths are those of children under 
one year of age. In our American cities the average 
of such deaths is not more than about twenty-four per 
cent, of all deaths. Brooklyn figures as the heaviest in 
this respect, with twenty-seven per cent, of all deaths ; 
New York, Jersey City, and Baltimore, with twenty-six 
per cent., while in New Orleans, which shows a high 
figure in the general mortality, the deaths of children 
under one year of age is only twenty per cent, of all 
deaths. 

But how is it that so many of these poor little 
worms of humanity are thus early crushed in Munich? 

In the first place, look at the number of illegitimate 
children born in Munich. In former years, and indeed 
up to the year 1862, the number of illegitimate births 
was about equal to the number of legitimate birth. 
Take, for instance, the year 1861. In that year there 
were 2552 legitimate and 2513 illegitimate children 
born in Munich. In the year 1859 the number of legi- 
timate children was 2478, and of illegitimate 2487 ; in 
the year 1858 there were 2334 legitimate and 2339 illegi- 
timate; so that these two years show even an excess of 
illegitimate births. From the year 1862 the proportion 
of illegitimate births steadily and rapidly decreased, 
and from the years 1870 to 1884 not much more than 
one-third of all births are those of illegitimate children. 

The cause of this decrease is the gradual lightening 
of the marriage laws, which were formerly very hard 
in Bavaria, making it in many cases almost impossible 
for parties to marry. Many parties who otherwise would 
have formed a legal union, had from the very begin- 
ning of their acquaintanceship no ])rospect and no hope 
of ever being able to marry. The consequence was 
that thousands of ])air8 lived with each other and were 
true to each other as if their union had been rocogni/AHi 
by the church or the state, but their children were 



368 BABY-FARMERS. 

illegitimate. The very stringency of the law which in 
80 many cases put marriage quite out of the question 
with those who were inclined thereto, and who were 
only debarred from having the rites performed because 
they were not able to furnish proof of their means 
(which the state always insisted on) to support each 
other and their future families, only furthered immor- 
ality by making it an inducement for young couples 
not to wait, where they knew waiting would be in 
vain, or when, even in the most favored cases, the best 
years of their life would be gone before they could ap- 
proach the altar. But, living in such a state of illegal 
intimacy, they had the same ease in getting rid of each 
other as they had of coming together. The offspring 
of such parties was, of course, illegitimate, and had to 
go through life without the father's name. Whatever 
may be the natural love of parents for such progeny, 
it would be a stretch of sentimentalism to believe that 
they could have the same interest as that of a duly 
married couple in the bodily and spiritual welfare of 
children for whose support the law only bound the 
father for fourteen years, and the mother only in so far 
as that the children should not become a burden to the 
state, and whom either father and mother could disown 
at any time after their coming of age. 

Is it, then, to be wondered at that no special pains 
are taken to help such poor bastards on their legs, or 
that, being only an encumbrance, they are exposed in 
the tender days of their first existence to every danger, 
and subjected to every neglect that is calculated to 
take their breath away that their unnatural shepherds 
can allow themselves without stranding on the rocks of 
criminality ? 

In England they call these people " baby-farmers,'* 
— here they have the more poetical expression of 
"angel-makers." The children suffer in both coun- 
tries, but in Germany there is some slight consolation 
expressed in the term, which proclaims, at least, that 
the little innocents, if prematurely shoved out of this 
world and all its troubles, are furnished with wings for 
a better one. 



INFANT MORTALITY, 369 

Again, let me here note another cause of the exces- 
sive mortality of Munich children during the first 
twelve months of their lives. Taking the total number 
of all children born in Munich, high and low, rich and 
poor, we find that only about seven and a half per 
cent, are nourished at the breast. Instead of getting 
what nature intended them to have, they are stuffed 
with thick, clammy pap, or swilled with cow's milk, 
which, in large cities, is generally not of the best, as is 
well known, and given to them from bottles and 
through india-rubber tubes that are not always any of 
the cleanest. This is trying to the poor babies, and 
life seems to their weak constitutions like a hard riddle, 
and they soon give it up.* 

Eeferring again to the period 1862 to 1869, in which, 
with an average population of 171,580, the average 
annual number of deaths was 5718 (or 33J deaths to 
each thousand inhabitants), if we deduct seventeen per 
cent., which is the excess of deaths of children under 
one year of age, over deaths of the same class in other 
large cities, we would have in the above seven years' 
period 4746 deaths in general, instead of 5718; and 
this would give for the average population of 171,580 
one death to each thirty-six inhabitants, or about 
28 deaths per thousand of the population. 

There is still another factor which must be taken 
into consideration — which helps to swell the death- 
rate. It has always been the curious custom at Mu- 
nichf to include the number of still-births in the death 
figures, a custom which is not observed in other coun- 
tries (for instance, not in all England nor in any of our 
American cities). The number of such cases if reported 
as deaths is, in Munich, about the twenty-first part of 
all deaths. Making allowance for such cases, which 



* A proof that the climatic conditions of Munich are not to be taken 
as the cause for the before-mentioned high percentage of deaths (33i 
per thousand), but that social conditions and usages have much to do 
ivith it, is the fact that among the quite large Jew population the deaths 
are only about 15 per thousand. 

t Until the year 1875. From that year on the number of still-births 
is not included in the death-roll. 



370 THE TYPHUS. 

cannot properly be considered as deaths, the average 
of mortality of Munich for the period before referred 
to would be about 27 per thousand, which brings 
Munich up to about the standard of Berlin and New 
York, and makes it show favorably over Paris and 
St. Petersburg, Florence, Dresden, Hamburg, Prague, 
Amsterdam, Rome, Vienna, Stockholm, and many 
other cities. 

For the last fifleen years the death-rate of Munich 
shows no increase over the rate just given. It will 
thus be seen that Munich is as healthful a place as 
the majority of large cities ; and when it is borne in 
mind that the principal item which entei's into the 
high death-rate is the unusually great mortality of 
children in their first year, it must appear that there 
is no reason for strangers being more afraid of so- 
journing there than in any other city to which they 
flock, and in which they remain for longer or shorter 
periods for purposes of business or recreation or study. 

But the most dreaded enemy, against whom the hue 
and cry is taken up by all st lingers, is the typhus. 
But in what part of the world does this enemy of 
mankind not exist ? If we go back some twenty-five 
or thirty years, we find indeed that the number of 
deaths from typhus in Munich was somewhat greater 
than in many other large cities. For the ten yeai-s, 
1860 to 1870, four and a half per cent, of all deaths 
were those from typhus. But Paris and Stuttgart had 
just the same proportion, and Vienna had five and a 
half per cent, of all deaths from typhus. From the 
year 1867 the number of deaths from typhus in Munich 
showed a marked decrease, the average number of 
deaths from typhus being only about three per cent, 
of all deaths. In 1872 the number of deaths from 
typhus was five and a half per cent, of all deaths, but 
that is the only time it has been at that high figure 
within the last thirty or forty years. But from the 
year 1872 on, it is interesting to note the gradual de- 
crease of the deaths from typhus in Munich. The per- 
centage of deaths from typhus to the whole number 
of deaths was for 1873, 2.86 per cent., and, successively, 



THE TYPHUS. 371 

3.87, 3.24, 1.90, 2.37, 1.50, 2.88, 1.86, 0.57, 0.58, 0.59, 
and 0.47 in 1884. 

There is probably not a city in Europe that can show 
such a small percentage of deaths from typhus. Turn- 
ing now to our own cities, we find that the percentage 
of deaths from tj^phus to all deaths is, in San Fran- 
cisco, 3.60; in Jersey City, 2.64; in Rochester, 4.0; in 
Cleveland, Ohio, 3.0; in St. Louis, 2.44; in Providence, 
Rhode Island, 3.39. I have no doubt that in many of 
our cities the percentage is still higher, but I have only 
been able to receive official statements from some fifteen 
of our larger cities. 

The assertion that in Munich the typhus is par- 
ticularly dangerous for strangers is quite unfounded. 
In the years 1864 and 1868 a careful list was made of 
all strangers stopping for a longer time in Munich, and 
of the two thousand two hundred and thirty-four 
strangers in 1864, and of the two thousand and seven 
strangers in 1868, only 1.07 per cent, of the total num- 
ber of deaths among them was from typhus. I may 
here remark that in my personal experience of many 
years in which I was brought into contact with many 
Americans and English, or at least, generally heard of 
all cases of illness or death among them, such cases 
were not greater in number than at other places. It 
must be remembered that a large proportion of the 
English and American colony of Munich is composed 
of young men pursuing their studies there. It is 
natural that such persons are not as careful as regards 
precautions against illness as older persons, or as they 
would be if under the care of their parents and under 
the restrictions of home influence. Many of these per- 
sist in continuing habits contracted in their own coun- 
try, such as drinking immense quantities of water, 
sleeping with the windows open, and wearing very thin 
clothing on summer evenings, — all of which may bo 
quite right at home, but do not suit for the climate of 
Munich. The figures just given are taken, too, in years 
in which the general mortality from typhus was much 
greater than it is now, and at present they would 
bo reduced to less than one-half per cent, of deaths. 



372 THE CHOLERA, 

I now come to another of those grim diseases which 
strangers have made into a perfect bugbear, and, espe- 
cially since the year 1873, frightening off thousands 
who otherwise would have flocked to Munich to par- 
take of the treats, artistic, musical, and scientific, which 
it at all times offers. 

Munich has within the present century had three 
visitations of the Asiatic cholera : in the year 1836-37, 
in 1854, and in 1873-74. But then it has been free 
from cholera at times when other parts of Europe were 
attacked by it, as, for instance, in the years 1848-49 
and 1865-66. Compared with other cities on the con- 
tinent, Munich has not suffered as much in this respect 
as Hamburg and Berlin, the former of which cities has 
had fourteen visitations of cholera since its first appear- 
ance in Germany, and the latter twelve. 

In the years 1836-37 the cholera epidemic at Munich 
lasted four months, and the number of deaths from 
cholera for each thousand inhabitants was ten. In the 
year 1854 (during the time of the first International 
Exhibition held at Munich, and which was the second 
of the great International Exhibitions which have since 
been held in almost all countries) the cholera raged for 
six months, and the number of deaths was twenty- 
three to each thousand inhabitants. During the years 
1873-74 the epidemic lasted ten months, but the num- 
ber of deaths per thousand inhabitants was only eight. 
The virulence of the disease during this last period 
cannot in the least compare with that of the outbreak 
of the cholera only the year before (1872-73) in Hun- 
gary. In all Hungary and Transylvania, four hundred 
and forty-seven thousand five hundred and seventy-one 
persons, or about thirty per thousand of the whole 
population, were attacked by the disease, and 42.2 per 
cent, of these died ; equal to about twelve per thousand 
inhabitants. In the parts visited by the cholera, fifty- 
three out of every thousand persons were attacked, 
and twenty-two died. In the city of Pesth about thir- 
teen per thousand of the inhabitants died. Berlin was 
visited by the cholera in the years 1831, '32, '37, '48, 
'49, '50, '52, '53, '55, '^^, '71, and '73. In the years 1837 



THE CHOLERA, 373 

and 1839 the number of deaths per thousand inhabitants 
was 8.85, in the year 1866, 8.33, and in the year 1831, 
6.21. In other years the death-rate was much less. 

It is true that the year 1854 was a dark one for 
Munich, and, as I have said before, the cholera broke 
out soon after the opening of the International Exhibi- 
tion, when there were crowds of strangers in the city. 
These, of course, soon fled, but not before many of them 
had been attacked by the fatal disease. The condition 
of the city at that time, in regard to good water-sup- 
ply, drainage, general cleanliness, etc., was quite differ- 
ent to that of the present day. Since then vast im- 
provements have been made in every direction on an 
extended scale ; but of this I shall speak later. 

It is the cholera epidemic of 1873 and 1874 which 
here can have present interest for us. It was dis- 
tinguished from the two former epidemics, not by a 
greater intensity, but by its longer duration, and by 
the peculiarity of its appearance, or rather, reappear- 
ance during the coldest weather of the year. In 1854 
the epidemic commenced towards the end of July and 
lasted till the beginning of December; in 1873 it com- 
menced the end of July likewise, reached its height in 
August, and gradually decreased through September. 
In October only single cases, and at intervals, appeared. 
From the first to the nineteenth of November there 
were only two cases reported. As the cold season had 
now commenced, and which is generally looked upon 
as a safeguard against epidemic diseases of this type, 
great hopes were entertained that the danger was over, 
at least for the winter. But just at that time the dis- 
ease suddenly increased in malignancy, and on the 
fourth of December had reached a degree of virulence 
even greater than during the hottest weather of 
August. Towards the beginning of January, 1874, the 
number of cases gradually diminished, but it increased 
again during the latter part of the month. During 
February the number steadily decreased, and in March 
and April there were only sporadic cases, and the last 
case of cholera was reported on the twenty-seventh of 
April, 1874. 

32 



374 THE CHOLERA. 

It is almost unnecessary to say, that even at the 
height of this last cholera epidemic it was never as bad 
as outside reports made it out to be. The Medical 
Times and Gazette^ of London, published a very bitter 
article at the time, in which it denounced Munich as 
the breeding-place of cholera, and it advised all English 
physicians to warn their countrymen from going there, 
— and it concluded with the hope that the "taboo 
would soon be taken off one of the most beautiful and 
interesting of modern cities." The worst day was the 
11th of December, 1873, when the number of cases 
were reported at thirty-three, and of deaths twenty-six. 
But the days on which the number of deaths reached 
twenty were very few ; the number of fatal cases was 
about one-half of the whole, but that is the usual pro- 
portion in all countries where the cholera has prevailed. 
During the ten months' period in 1873 and 1874 the 
number of deaths from cholera was eight per thousand 
inhabitants. 

Almost all the American and English families left 
Munich during the last epidemic, — still, there were 
numbers of young men remained. I do not know of 
any deaths of Americans from the cholera (except one, 
which I shall presently speak of), nor that any of them 
were attacked by it. 

Among our American larger cities there is scarcely 
one that has escaped very serious visitations of the 
Asiatic cholera. New York, since the year 1832, has 
had the epidemic no less than sixteen times ; Jersey 
City, seven times; St, Louis, five times; Cleveland 
and Eochester, four times; Baltimore and Providence, 
three times. The duration of the disease, to be sure, 
was not very long in either of these places, vary- 
ing generally from three to six months, but the death- 
rate was in many cases very high. In New York, in 
1832, the number of deaths per thousand inhabitants 
was 15.64, and in 1849, 10.24. In Baltimore, in 1832, 
the number of deaths from cholera per thousand in- 
habitants was ten. In St. Louis, in 1849, there were 
sixty-seven deaths per thousand inhabitants, and in 
1866 there were 17.3 deaths to each thousand inhabit- 



THE CHOLERA. 375 

ants. In Providence, in 1832, when the cholera lasted 
less than three months, there were twenty-five deaths 
to every thirty-six cases of cholera, so that over sixty- 
nine per cent, of all cases ended fatally; and in 1849, 
when the epidemic lasted six months in the same city, 
the number of fatal cases were sixty-six and a half 
per cent, of all cases of cholera. 

There is a circumstance connected with the last cholera 
epidemic of Munich which gives it a painful interest 
to Americans. On the 24th of June, 1873, just as I was 
about stepping into the railway-car to leave Munich 
for the enjoyment of a six-weeks' leave of absence, a 
messenger came up to me with a note from one of the 
hotels, stating that there was an American lying there 
dangerousl}^ ill, and begging me to come at once to see 
what could be done for him. I requested the vice- 
consul, who had accompanied me to the station, to go 
there, which he did. The stranger was just about 
being removed to the hospital, where he died the next 
day. This was the first case of Asiatic cholera, and its 
victim was Eev. Pliny Wood, a Methodist clergyman, 
from East Cambridge, Massachusetts, fifty-three years of 
age, travelling alone. He had just returned from Vienna, 
where the cholera had already made its appearance, 
and he had contracted the disease there. He was 
buried in the southern cemetery of Munich. This was 
looked upon as an isolated and exceptional case, and it 
did not create much uneasiness, as it was well estab- 
lished that the disease did not originate at Munich. 
A week passed over before the people were startled 
by the fact that the epidemic had broken out amidst 
them. 

When the disease had at length spent its force, when 
the last lingering seeds only took effect after intervals 
of several days between the cases, and when things 
began to brighten, and when the people of Munich 
were eased in their minds, as if a heavy weight had 
been lifted from them and were rejoicing that the long 
period of dread suspense was over, a death occurred, 
the news of which was transmitted by the lightning 
wires to all parts of the civilized world. It was the 



376 DEATH OF KAVLBACH. 

death of Wilhelm von Kaulbach, the painter, Germany's 
greatest satirist, who had for many years made Munich 
his home, and where his grandest works were all pro- 
duced. He was taking recreation in his garden one 
afternoon, being as well as usual, when he suddenly 
felt pain. He was persuaded to go to bed, although he 
did so unwillingly, and even then he kept on smoking 
his cigar, which was his inseparable companion. He 
had lain down more out of consideration for the anxiety 
of his family than that he felt the necessity for it him- 
self It is said that in the midst of his pain he jokingly 
remarked that it would be a funny thing if the cholera 
caught him at last, after his many escapes from other 
ills. It made short work of him. He died on the 7th 
of April, 1874, after a sickness of only a few hours. 

This was a great blow for the art city : it was not 
alone the loss of a great man it had to deplore, but the 
prominence of his death — its suddenness — spread the 
fact of the existence of the cholera, and of its attack- 
ing rich as well as poor, — of its attacking those who in 
their homes, in villas detached from the thickly-settled 
parts of the town, had the best means of guarding 
against it, — to all parts of the world. It was, there- 
fore, supposed that the cholera was raging in Munich 
to a fearful extent. Other places tried to make capital 
out of Munich's misfortune, everywhere the accounts 
were dreadfully exaggerated, and it was made out that 
Munich was verily the most dangerous place on the 
face of the earth : especially in Switzerland the good 
hotel-keepers tried to keep their houses full by warn- 
ing strangers not on any account to go near the fated 
city, for they knew that the time otherwise devoted to 
Munich would then probably fall to their share, and, 
as time is money, they thought it would not be amiss 
to make hay while the sun shone for them, and the 
black pall rested on the city of the little monk. 

I was in frequent receipt of letters during this time 
from travelling Americans, asking me to tell them can- 
didly if it were safe for them to stay overnight, or 
even if it were not dangerous for them to only pass 
through Munich. I remember one party wrote me 



FORMER CONDITION OF MUNICH, 377 

out a statement of the peculiar constitution of each of 
his children, specifying to what disorders they were 
most predisposed, and asking me if it would "really be 
tempting Providence" to stop for a day or two. Of 
course 1 could not take the responsibility of giving any 
advice on the subject. I sent such inquirers the daily 
number of cases and of deaths, giving them the popu- 
lation of the city, and let them judge for themselves. 

Some thirty or forty years ago Munich was, it is true, 
an unhealthy place, and there were many existing evils. 
There were no canals, no drains, and but little good 
water. All the liquid refuse from the houses and 
workshops slowly wound its way along gutters that 
were not paved nor confined by curbstones, or stag- 
nated there. This slimy run, or rather creeper, was 
the only thing that divided the streets from the side- 
walks, which latter, like the streets, were also paved 
with sharp cobble-stones, only that they were some- 
what smaller and more poinded, wounding the feet 
through the thickest soles, so that it was rather a re- 
lief to walk in the middle of the road, which most 
people did. That was the state of affairs in the heart 
of the city. In the outside streets there was only sand 
and pebbles, which in wet weather were of the consist- 
ency of a poultice, and when the frost came out of the 
ground in the spring, one almost sank in up to the 
knees, and it was necessary to have tight-fitting boots 
if one did not want them to be sucked off one's feet. 
The numerous arms of the Isar which rushed through 
the city were uncovered, and their waters were tainted 
with the filth from tanneries, dyeing-works, slaughter- 
sheds, and the closets of the houses which bordered 
them. Offensive smells were as prevalent as those for 
which Cologne used to be celebrated. 

The ground of the vast plain upon which Munich is 
built is Alpine rubble, from twenty to forty feet in 
depth, resting upon a stratum of marl, probably somo 
hundreds of feet thick, and is very permeable both to 
water and to air. The marl, which is exposed to sight 
only in parts of the steep left banks of the Isar, is the 
sediment of an antediluvian lake, which in the tertiary 

32* 



378 SOIL OF MUNICH, 

period spread over the whole of the Bavarian upper 
plain. This solid bed of marl is impermeable to water, 
and forms a water-tight bottom for the whole section, 
and under the bed of the Isar also. The bed of the 
Isar being the lowest part of the whole plain, the 
ground water naturally drains from both sides of the 
river together. The interstices of the pebbles which 
cover this water-tight bottom are mostly filled with 
water and air, and constitute more than a third part of 
the entire mass. It can be truly said that the ground 
on which the Munich houses are built is one-third air. 
The experiment to prove this can be easily made by 
taking any vessel and filling it with the soil by shak- 
ing it down compactly. Bj then pouring water in it 
one can see how much of the space was before unoc- 
cupied. 

Such a soil has certain advantages as well as disad- 
vantages. One of the former is, that there are seldom 
wet walls and damp houses, which is so often the case 
in other cities. Even the houses in the immediate 
neighborhood of the Isar are not damper than those 
which are quite distant from it. The water which 
penetrates the soil from above does not stagnate, for 
the solid bed of marl under the pebbles has a strong in- 
clination towards the river, and carries off the water 
below the bed of the latter. Not only the river, but 
the ground water also has a strong fall, which prevents 
stagnation. The great disadvantage of the soil is that 
the interstices are not filled with clean water alone, but 
with the filth also that enters into it. It is wrong to 
suppose that the porosity of the soil is like a drain, 
which carries everything through it: it is more like a 
filter, which allows the clean water to pass and retains 
what one most wishes to get rid of. It is, therefore, 
of the greatest importance in such a soil that all closet 
wells and sinks should be made perfectly tight. In 
former years too little attention was paid to this, and 
as the pumps were not very far from such sinks, and 
their walls not being water-tight either, the water was 
thus contaminated, for the liquid oozed into the pump 
wells, making the water disagreeable to the taste and 



MUNICH'S WATER-SUPPLY, 379 

unhealthy. The water itself, independent of these in- 
fluences, was not bad, as has been sufficiently proved 
by chemical analysis.* 

The water, which is brought into the city in pipes 
from the two water-works at Brumenthal and Thal- 
kirchen, is quite as good as the water furnished to most 
cities ; but Munich having grown so rapidly, the sup- 
ply from these two places is not sufficient, and a new 
water-supply from the Mangfall — ample enough for a 
city of three times the size of Munich — has just been 
opened. 

Within the last twenty years Munich has been un- 
derlaid with a complete net-work of admirably con- 
structed canals, which carry away all the refuse matter 
to a point in the Isar far below the city. The bene- 
ficial results of these canals have already made them- 
selves apparent in the lessening of disease and in de- 
creasing the death-roll. 

But it is not only the system of canals which has 
been occupying the attention of the city authorities for 
the last quarter of a century. They have graded and 
paved the streets and made gutters with granite curb- 
stones, and compelled householders to pave the side- 
walks with hard and very durable artificial stone flags, 
uniform throughout the whole city, and laid in cement, 
thus forming a walk as even as a floor and very agree- 
able for the feet. The rain pipes from the roofs run 
beneath the pavements directly into the canals. Many 
of the old, narrow and crooked streets have given 
place to new ones, and there is a free circulation of air 
through all parts of the city. Most of the streets are 
very wide, and I know of no place where there are so 
many open squares planted with trees and laid out in 
flower-beds as Munich possesses. The area of the 
built-up part of Munich is greater in proportion to the 
number of inhabitants than that of any city of Europe. 
The city fathers have not only done their work well, 
but they have compelled the citizens to do their share 
likewise. In all new houses the closets, sinks and 

* See Pettenhofer'fl works. 



380 CLIMATE OF MUNICH. 

wells and drains have to be built in a certain prescribed 
substantial manner, and in all the old houses altera- 
tions and improvements must be made in those respects 
as far as practicable. 

The sanitary condition of Munich is, therefore, no 
longer what it was thirty years ago ; in fact, I do not 
think there is a city on the continent where so much 
has been done in the way of useful and beneficial im- 
provement within the last quarter of a century, as 
there. The streets and public places are kept in good 
repair and are well cleaned, — indeed, this forces itself 
on the attention of most strangers. How many Ameri- 
cans have made the remark to me, " What a beauti- 
fully clean city you have, and how orderly every- 
thing is !" 

As to the climate of Munich and the sudden changes 
of temperature, of course nothing can be done to alter 
that. Munich lies about sixteen hundred feet above 
the level of the sea, and is one of the most elevated 
cities of Europe. The plain upon which it stands is of 
vast extent ; the air comes directly from the moun- 
tains, and there being no stagnant water in the neigh- 
borhood, it is pure and bracing ; and Munich not being 
a manufacturing nor a commercial city, it is not tainted 
with the belching smoke of factory-chimneys and the 
exhalations that rise from the wharves of seaport 
places. The middle temperature is in winter, about 
27° Fahrenheit ; spring, 42 J°; summer, 64° ; and autumn 
42°. It never gets as hot in summer nor as cold in 
winter as in our Eastern cities. The heat is some- 
times very intense, but the heat is in the sun's rays 
and not in the air, for on going into the shade or on 
entering a house one always experiences a grateful re- 
lief from the burning heat of the sun. With us the 
air is hot through and through, and at night we suffer 
almost as much as during the day. In Munich the 
nights are always cool, and even in midsummer — even 
if the thermometer has been over ninety in the shade — 
one is glad to have a light blanket or two as a cover 
at night. On the hottest days, as soon as the sun goes 
down the air begins to cool. The changes of tem- 



RAIN. 381 

perature, especially in summer, are great and sudden : 
the thermometer may fall thirty degrees in a few 
hours. Whenever it rains in Munich it is cold. It is 
true that in such a climate some precaution is neces- 
sary, and one must dress accordingly. One should 
always have a light overcoat or a shawl ready, even 
when the hot spell is at its height, for they will be 
needed when evening comes on ; but with sensible at- 
tention to the matter of dress, one need not be more 
liable to take cold at Munich than at any other place. 
One cannot disguise the fact that there is a good deal 
of rainy Aveather in Munich, and that it often rains for 
a long time uninterruptedly. One must remember that 
one is here very near the clouds, and there is often a 
great amount of moisture in the air, even when it does 
not rain. Munich is certainly not the place a consump- 
tive, or any one suffering with a lung or bronchial com- 
plaint, would select for the benefit of his health ; such 
people must go to the land where 

" The citron and olive are fairest of fruit, 
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute," 

or some similarly constituted country, just the same as 
with us, if consumptives had their choice, they would 
prefer the climate of Florida to that of Philadelphia or 
New York ; yet Munich is not so dangerous a place for 
consumptives as either of those cities. 

For persons suffering from any nervous diseases the 
climate of Munich is particularly invigorating. Many 
persons who have sojourned there have told me that 
their nerves had grown stronger and sounder, and that 
they felt themselves much better and more elastic in 
body and in spirits than at home. Dysenterj-, of which 
we have so much in all our cities, is almost unknown 
here. Intermittent fever is seldom met with except in 
the hospitals, and then only among strangers, who 
have probably brought it with them from some other 
place. Scrofula and caries are diseases seldom appear- 
ing, and strangers afflicted therewith generally find the 
air of Munich does them good. 

I have tried to give within a small compass an im- 



382 DIPLOMACY. 

partial and a reasonably full statement of the sanitary 
condition of Munich, based partly upon my own obser- 
vations and experience during my long residence there, 
and upon the statistical information given by the au- 
thorities I have already mentioned, and which may be 
relied upon for being correct ; and it would be a satis- 
faction for me if I could believe that this chapter has 
done any good in contributing a mite towards the dis- 
pelling of the senseless and unjustifiable charges made 
against Munich. 



CHAPTEE XXIV. 



Diplomacy — Quarrel between circus man and wife — Circus people's busi- 
ness with consul — No permission to perform — Japanese acrobats — 
Uses of the Odeon — Yankee girl and Richard Wagner — " Oh, hell" — 
Stretching conscience — Boy with talent for art and music — The dying 
man and his obliging friend. 

The first clause of section 1738 of the Eevised Stat- 
utes of the United States says, '' No consular officer 
shall exercise diplomatic functions;" no, of course not, 
— diplomacy for a consul indeed ! I startle at the 
words, I shiver at the idea. I fall down and thank an 
all-wise, an all-knowing, an all-feeling government that 
has spared us the glittering responsibilities that beset 
the path of the hardy diplomat. 

Diplomacy is a colossal pyramid to which the biggest 
of the wonders of Ghiseh would but serve as an apex. 
But its position (like everything else pertaining to this 
inscrutable science) is just the very reverse of what 
an ordinary mind would expect, for it stands, not upon 
its base, but upon its point ; the big blocks are at the 
top, and everything settles down on the little fellow 
below. 

The great secret of diplomacy is always to shift the 
blame on somebody else, — to funnel down the responsi- 
bility from the top to the bottom. 

We'll suppose one of our beloved citizens, most likely 
one who has deserted his own nest and has been taken 



DIPLOMACY. 383 

Up under our wing, on visiting a foreign country (say 
Germany) suffers a grievance, or imagines he does, at 
the hands of the government of that country. 

Most of the thus injured parties rush at once to the 
nearest consul or minister to obtain immediate bloody 
redress, or if they are of a less rabid turn, to claim, at 
least, inky satisfaction. But some few of these bottle 
up their wrath to carry it across the water with them, 
that they may let it out at headquarters. We will 
suppose one of the latter cases. 

When the injured individual gets home he makes a 
dreadful blow about the scaly treatment he received 
abroad, and reports his case at once to the President of 
the United States. The President, clearly, has nothing 
to do with such matters, so he gently wafts it over to 
the Secretary of State. The Secretary of State gets up 
a despatch to the United States minister in the country 
where the reported outrage was committed : the min- 
ister examines his map, and after some study finds out 
where the place is. He has two consuls-general under 
him whom he can travel over and take the start from 
as if he were standing at the forks of a road and were 
only doubtful as to which one he should take to lead 
him in the direction he wants to go. He chooses the 
right one; and the consul-general then gets his in- 
structions to give his attention to the matter at his 
earliest convenience. The consul-general, of course, 
does not soil his fingers with such work. He tackles 
the proper consul under him in writing, and instructs 
him again to give his attention to the matter at his 
earliest convenience. The matter having thus succes- 
sively settled down from the higher to the lower officer, 
and reached its mean level, it is time to give the thing 
a fresh start. The consul, a man of spirit, takes a 
higher flight; he skies the question to the Eoyal Pres- 
ident of the district where the supposed malfeasance 
was committed. The Royal President goes downwards 
again. He writes to one of the head officers of one of 
th<5 subdivisions of that district about it, thus packing 
it down into narrower limits. This last person com- 
presses it into still narrower limits and pitches into the 



384 DIPLOMACY, 

burgomaster of the place which was the scene of the 
outrage ; this gives him a chance too to make a show 
of his authority, for the parties are getting down lower 
in the scale of importance, and it is a good thing now 
and then for a superior officer to remind the fellow 
under him of who he is and what he is there for. 

But every beery burgomaster of even the smallest 
town is a diplomat in his way, for he has a rusty 
clerk or two that he can knock about for a couple of 
weeks before he condescends to dip his pen to sign 
the closely-written statement made from his dictation. 
The answer, in due course of waiting, countersigning, 
and counter-commenting, worms its way back through 
the same channels and reaches the consul. The consul 
then sends in his report to the consul-general (not 
being allowed to address so high a functionary as a 
minister directly). The consul-general turns it over 
to one of his clerks to dish up, adding his comments on 
the case, as if he found it was not quite salty enough 
(for it would never do if he didn't put in a word or 
two), and then it is forwarded to the minister. The 
minister, of course, now puts the whole thing into 
shape and writes out a despatch to the Department 
about it, and there (unless we are willing to send one 
of our innumerable ironclads across the water) the 
whole things ends — except on paper; for, a year or 
two afterwards, the case comes out in print in the 
volume of " Diplomatic Eelations," and is very edifying 
reading. These volumes are bound up in a red cover 
like a guide-book, — a guide to that slippery country 
from whose bourne no straightforward answer ever 
returns. 

Now, it might be asked by the uninitiated reader 
why, in such a case, the United States minister could 
not write directly to the burgomaster, or whoever the 
last man maybe? Such a thing would never do ; in 
the first place, what would we do with all our red tape, 
of which we have such a goodly stock on hand ? and 
then again, how could such a mighty power as a 
United States minister with the effulgent armor of 
extra-territoriality blazing on his person, lower himself 



DIPLOMACY. 385 

to take up arms against a civic official of a foreign coun- 
try in a red vest and top boots, who would be sure to 
be sitting in some tavern swigging bis beer and puffing 
at his long pipe at the very moment such a missive 
might reach him ; besides, don't you see, by this long 
course of winding and counterwinding and going from 
one hand to another, the complainant gets so old that 
by the time he begins to see a faint glimmering of the 
thing ever coming back again to his own cognizance, 
his interest in his own cause has become quite enfee- 
bled, and he hasn't youthful vigor left to press it any 
further? But, best of all reasons, and the most potent 
one of all, — suppose the whole investigation does not 
turn out to the satisfaction of the Department, — to the 
satisfaction of the Secretary of State, — who is to be 
blamed for it ? 

Now, in the regular course, the Secretary of State, in 
such a case, writes an awfully polite despatch to the 
minister; the minister can fall back on the consul- 
general and tell him he didn't " appear to have under- 
stood the instructions" given him ; the consul-general 
revenges himself by hauling the consul over the coals, 
and writes him that he hadn't been sharp, and " why 
didn't he, etc.," and unless the consul has some little 
clerk that he can kick, the blame settles down on the 
consul through the inevitable laws of gravitation. 

In former days, when countries were separated from 
each other by weeks and months of staging, and when 
sailing vessels were at the mercy of the winds and 
waves, sometimes for a quarter of a year in getting 
from our shores to Europe, diplomatists had something 
to think about, and had to work their wits ; a great 
responsibility rested on their shoulders: now, they 
play with the telegraph and ocean cable, wiring their 
questions to the fountain-head as to each step they 
take. The governments jerk back their movements to 
them through thousands of miles of air and water, — 
and thus the little game is played. 

I do not wish to imply that diplomatic representa- 
tives in a foreign country are merely ornamental pieces 
of furniture, nor that we could do without them. I 
R z 33 



386 DIPLOMACY, 

merely wish to say that the deputed power which they 
formerly represented in their persons has lost much of 
its siojnificance at the present day. Formerly they 
were like a partner in the firm, having to rely on their 
own resources — without having frequent communica- 
tion with headquarters — for long periods ahead, whilst 
to-day they are more like political bagmen or drum- 
mers, who have to ask for information from their prin- 
cipals before making or accepting each bargain. 

But in every business transaction a good deal of the 
success depends on the personal appearance, manners, 
and attainments of the party acting. An agreeable 
and obliging salesman in any shop will sell twice as 
much as a mopish one will. The minister in conclud- 
ing negotiations with a foreign country is simply car- 
rying out the instructions of his chief, but in his per- 
sonal accomplishments, in the matter of argumentation 
and insinuation, much of the success of his endeavors 
depend. By cultivating personal, friendly relations 
with the officers of the government to which he is ac- 
credited he gains many opportunities of informally 
learning the views of that government and of hinting 
at the views of his own, and by thus being on the 
lookout he should often be in a position to prevent 
serious conflicts from arising, which, in an official dis- 
cussion, might be fraught with danger. 

Although we are told that in all diplomatic inter- 
course frankness alone can lead to good results, yet 
one of the cherished tenets of all good diplomatists is 
to avoid giving a direct answer to any question put to 
them, but to wind it round with a web of sentences 
and phrases which will always leave a loop-hole for 
pushing through another construction of their mean- 
ing. A diplomatic answer should always bear the 
impress of the character of the showman who exhib- 
ited the picture of the battle of Waterloo, who, when 
the sharp boy asks him, *' Please, sir, vich is Yelling- 
ton and vich is Bony?" replies, "JDon't be basking 
himpertinent questions, my little man ; you pays your 
money and you takes your choice." 



CIRCUS PEOPLE. 387 

One afternoon a man and a woman came into the 
office in a great state of excitement. I had heard loud 
and angry voices of a man and a woman, and the bark- 
ing of a dog, coming over the yard. The man, some- 
what short in stature, but immensely muscular, with a 
square chin and a bull-like neck like a prize-fighter, 
started by saying that he wanted to get a separation 
from " that woman ;" he couldn't stand living with her 
any longer, she " beat him around so." He was bruised, 
he said, from head to foot ; and he at once pulled up 
his pantaloons to show me his shins, which certainly 
did exhibit many spots and stripes of black and blue 
and yellow, adding, " My wife did it, sir." " Yes, Mr. 
Taborca," she quickly put in, " I did do it, but I did it 
in self-defence; but, oh, Mr. Consul, you ought to see 
w,y legs." Her lips were bruised and swollen, and her 
cheek-bone looked as if it had had a recent application 
of fist. The man was an American, a rider belonging 
to a travelling circus which had just arrived in Munich. 
His wife was an Englishwoman, tall and slender, with 
large black eyes and wavy hair. She would hear of 
nothing short of a divorce ; how could she get it? 

The chief cause of complaint seemed to be that the 
man was not only very strong in his muscles, but also 
very strong in his attentions to another woman in the 
circus, whom he had to ride with, lift up on his shoulder, 
and generally sling about by a belt around her waist 
while he stood with each foot on the boarded backs of 
a span of horses like a galloping Colossus of Ehodes. 
"Well," he said, in extenuation, "but that belongs to 
my business." The recital on the part of the wife of 
Mr. Taborca's other carryings on with the lady, which 
were not strictly professional, was a little too prolixly 
spicy to be put down here. This public divulging of 
Mr. Taborca's shortcomings did not have a soothing 
effect on him. He retorted manfully. One word led 
to another. Recriminations and counter-recrimina- 
tions were wildly flung backward and forward, and it 
was evident they were nearly prepared to give an 
acrobatical display of the way they settled their little 
quarrels in the very consulate. 



388 CIRCUS PEOPLE. 

I advised them to go away and try to get along 
better with each other, or to come again when they 
were both cooler. They carried their battle across the 
yard with them, and into the street, on reaching which, 
however, they took the opposite pavements to pursue 
their way circuswards, while the little dog, with strict 
impartiality, trotted along in the middle of the road 
between them. 

The next day they came back again with the little 
dog, and with the old complaint. I gave them the 
address of a lawyer, who drew up an agreement of 
separation for them, which they afterwards signed at 
the consulate. For the consideration of the monthly 
payment of two hundred and fifty francs to Mrs. 
Taborca she w^as to let her husband alone, and to do 
as he pleased, and he also gave her the same liberty; 
and they left, mutually satisfied with the arrangement. 
This time they walked side by side circuswards, and 
the little dog waddled close behind them, pleasantly 
dodging alternately around the ankles of the one and 
the ankles of the other. On visiting the circus some 
evenings afterwards, when Mr. Taborca came into the 
ring he honored me and my family with a fixed stare 
every time he flew around, and especially when his 
horse stopped to blow and for Mr. Taborca to pant. I 
believe it was a stare of relief 

His wife was not a rider; she only took part in the 
ballets and in the pantomimes. When the circus left, 
she remained behind in Munich. She did fancy needle- 
work for the stores, and was skilful in embroidery in 
gold and silver. Some months afterwards she became 
very ill, and it was necessary for her to undergo a 
complicated and dangerous operation, which kept her 
in a very critical state for a long time. Her landlady 
came to the consulate and begged me to go to her, for 
she supposed her to be dying. My wife and I visited 
her, and took some trifles for her comfort with us. 
The crisis being at length over, she began to recover. 
Of course the money her husband sent her was not 
enough to pay for the doctors and nurses and drugs 
which she required ; he had been somewhat remiss too, 



CIRCUS PEOPLE. 389 

and had not sent her the full sum stipulated upon. 
The woman's lawyer wrote to the husband several 
times, and rather urgently, I suppose. At last Mr. 
Taborca wrote to me what I thought was a pretty 
sensible letter, and one which showed him to be not 
such a bad sort of a man. 

He said it was not necessary for him to be reminded 
of the terms of his contract with his wife. " I know 
them, and act up to them as far as lays in my power; cir- 
cumstances alter cases, and circumstances have greatly 

altered mine. I sent on the and remittances, 

and have had no reply to say whether they were re- 
ceived or not. I know my wife is ill, and has been for 
a long time, unfortunately for me. Now, if I was to be 
taken ill or met with an accident (which is very fre- 
quent in my profession), my pay would be stopped and 
I would have no money for myself, let alone for my 
wife, for I have no capital nor income, only what I 
work for, and at present not much. I send as much as 
I can afford. 1 know my duty ; in fact, I have sent more 
than I could afford, for I have got into debt here in con- 
sequence While I am in work and in health, I 

send what I really can afford, and will always do so: 
if I am sick or out of a situation she can expect noth- 
ing (take nothing from nothing and nothing remains), 
so there is no use plying me with letters; leave me 
alone and I will do all in my power as becomes my 
duty and a gentleman to do the right thing. Why she 
should undergo an operation so expensive, with three 
surgeons, when there are hospitals so much cheaper, 
I am at a loss to understand. If I had to undergo an 
operation or meet with an accident, I should be com- 
pelled to go to an hospital, because I could not afford 

private attendance She depends on me, and I 

depend on health and circumstances (wo are all the 
children of circumstances and must submit to them). 
.... I could enumerate to you many things in my be- 
half, but it would be trespassing too much on your 
valuable time; suffice it to say, I will do all in justice 
and duty that lays in my power. Eespectfully yours.** 

38* 



390 CIRCUS PEOPLE. 

There is scarcely a circus in Europe that has not 
some Americans in the company, and in travelling 
around they often have to do with the consul. Some- 
times they have lost their passports, sometimes they 
come to sign a contract with their employers, or to get 
a release, sometimes they have differences with their 
employers and seek the consul in the hope of getting 
redress at his hands. 

The business manager of one of our great American 
travelling circuses and shows came to Munich to make 
arrangements for exhibiting there. But he could not 
get the desired permission to perform. He came to 
the consulate in his distress. The police department 
made no objections, the city authorities made no objec- 
tions, — it was only the Royal Director of the Eoyal 
Opera that was opposed to him. All proposed public 
exhibitions and entertainments, musical, dramatic, or 
spectacular, must first receive the approval and consent 
of this personage. The manager of the circus in ques- 
tion did not know what to do ; they had made all their 
arrangements to come to Munich, and if they were not 
able to perform it would be an immense pecuniary loss 
to them. He urged me to use my influence with the 
Director of the Royal Opera; he assured me that he 
had had similar difficulties in Vienna, and that there 
the American minister had gone to headquarters and 
personally arranged the matter for them. Such a pre- 
cedent was enough to convince me that there could be 
no harm in a consul following it. The manager was 
kind enough to promise me that if they came to Mu- 
nich I might have one of their best horses to ride 
every day they remained, either in the ring or on the 
street, as I preferred. I am not a riding man any more, 
but the offer was tempting. I wrote a letter in his 
behalf to the Roj^al Director of the Royal Opera, ask- 
ing permission onlj^ for a three days' performance, and 
received a very polite answer; he regretted very much, 
etc., that he was unable to give the desired permis- 
sion, but the ground on which he based his refusal was, 
I thought, quite unique. He said that besides the Royal 
Opera there was another theatre open, and all kinds 



CIRCUS PEOPLE. 391 

of concerts and other entertainments going on, and that 
those were enough for the people, and besides, the com- 
petition of the great American circus might be inju- 
rious to the receipts at the Eoyal Opera. I think his 
fears unconsciously gave some dignity and applicability 
to the expression ^' horse opera" with which we are 
sportively in the habit of alluding to the circus. 

On another occasion the proprietor of a band of 
Japanese acrobats wanted the use of the royal music 
hall, the ^^ Odeon," for exhibiting in. As he alone 
could not make any headway in gettting the permission 
of the Eoyal Director, he too came to the consulate. 
I had to write again, and got another polite answer, 
but this time the refusal was based upon the assertion 
that it would be a desecration of the building, which 
was only intended for musical purposes, to allow its use 
for such performances. 

It was only a short time after this refusal that the 
annual chicken show was held within the sacred walls 
of that devoted fane. Perhaps the cackling of the 
hens and the crowing of the roosters was considered 
musical. There could be no question as to the scent 
they distributed through the hall. Subsequently the 
^Hwo headed Nightingale," the twin negro sisters 
grown together, held its or their receptions there, to 
say nothing of the performances of a Semitic presti- 
digitateur and tiresome magic-lantern shows which 
followed. Public balls were also held in the same 
building during the Carnival, where a good deal of 
perspiring was going on. So that, after all, it was 
rough on the Japs. 

I must add, however, that since the last five or six 
years the royal Odeon has been swept clean of all 
such profane usages, and is now strictly devoted to its 
original purpose. Classical concerts only are held in 
it now. 

The spirit of independence which is impregnated in 
the very being of young America, even to its humblest 
representatives, is something wonderful to contemplate. 
Bold, fearless, and self-possessed, young America, whor- 



392 YANKEE GIRL AND RICHARD WAGNER. 

ever he goes, feels himself the equal of all the world, — 
the equal in station, importance, attainments, — the 
equal in everything. His veneration for age and for ex- 
perience in others is exemplified in the condescension 
with which he will impart his own views and convic- 
tions for the benefit of those who have laboriously^ 
worked their way up to the top of their profession. 
No subject comes amiss to him, and he expects his 
elders to give him full sway to enlighten and advise 
them. 

A young girl whose lovely seventeen summers had 
just floated her out of the confines of boarding-school 
and launched her, with her fresh stores of erudition 
still clinging to her, into the old world, told me that 
she had just been on a visit to Eichard Wagner at 
Bayreuth. She had been at his house, and had there 
engaged him in a learned disquisition on music, reach- 
ing from the very borders of prehistoric time to the 
veiled mysteries of the music of the future. She had 
given him the sense of her people on the momentous 
musical questions of the day ; she had comforted him 
with the declaration that her countrymen were begin- 
ning to appreciate the colossal genius of Euterpe's 
apostle, whose bombardonic notes had produced a new 
revelation of the deep poetry and holy rhj^thra of 
sound, and she conjured him not to deviate from the 
j)ath he had struck out, for she could assure him that 
he would be ultimately sustained by the acclamations 
of coming generations of the new and the old world. 

She said Wagner listened to her in rapt astonish- 
ment. No doubt he did. I can fancy the old master, 
who has broken the heads of so many musicians and 
split the voices of so many expensive tenors, thus 
cornered by a Yankee girl in her teens talking music 
at him with the glibness of a rampant barrel-organ and 
illustrating her remarks with citations from her own 
. experience, as if she had been a musical critic since the 
daj's of Pan. The old man was disarmed ; he hadn't 
his baton with him, and so she had him at a disad- 
vantage, but I feel certain that when he got his armor 
on again, if he were called upon to write a part for that 



STRETCHING CONSCIENCE. 393 

young lady's performance, it would be about ten thou- 
sand bars — facet. 

In the coffee-houses the waiter-girls come up to you 
flourishing two britannia pots, one in either hand, con- 
taining coffee and milk respectively, and put the curt 
question, "Hell oder dunkel ?" (Light or dark?) They 
then pour into the cup first the coffee and then the 
milk, and generally hit the exact shade of the mixture 
to suit each customer's taste with wonderful accuracy. 

A young man who had been very strictly brought up 
at home, whose conversation was yea, yea, nay, nay, 
and who had been taught to shun the appearance of 
evil, was once attacked by this question. In his inno- 
cence he aired his Grerman,and drawled out, " Oh, hell.'^ 
A sly look from one of his friends as he uttered these 
unexpected words quite upset him; he became dread- 
fully embarrassed, and inwardly thought Germany was 
a very wicked place. 

It's good there is such a thing as india-rubber. It 
shows us how elastic some things can be. We couldn't 
form any correct idea of the elasticity of some con- 
sciences if we hadn't this ocular demonstration in the 
case of india-rubber. 

A gentleman, w^ho, like the one just alluded to, was 
very orthodox in his views, determined, during his 
European travels, to keep up his Puritan observances 
of the Sabbath even on the continent, where Sunday, 
all over, is the liveliest day of the whole week. He 
went to church wherever there was an English service. 
But in going to or returning from church he had to 
walk the streets. The shops were all open and his 
eyes were too, so of course ho could not help seeing 
what was displayed in their windows. 

We came to a jeweller's shop, and there he saw an 
enticing pair of sleevc-buttous. We stopped to look at 
them more closely. 

"I wonder what they cost?'' said he. 

" Go in and price them," said I. 

"Oh, no," ho replied, " to-day's Sunday,—! couldn't 



394 A TALENTED BOY. 

do such a thing. Please, you go in and price them fuv 
me." 

*' Come, now," I said, "that's rather strong. But I 
tell you what, — if they do not cost more than ten gul- 
dens, shall I buy them for you ?" 

He looked perplexed, but soon answered, " Oh, no, 
no, I couldn't take them if they were bought on a 
Sunday." 

We stood for a long time at that window, he looking 
at the buttons longingly, — I might say covetously, — he 
would have liked so much to have had them at once. 
At last, on our turning away, he broke out with, " Oh, 
my, — how I wish to-day wasn't Sunday!" 

As to going to an opera on a Sunday, he regarded 
that as the abomination of abominations. 

We approached the " Hall of the Marshal," where 
the military band was playing a sprightly waltz. 
Crowds of people as .usual, in their holiday attire, were 
standing and promenading in front of it. We stopped 
too. I noticed that my friend listened eagerly. I 
even caught him tapping time with his foot. I couldn't 
help saying to him, '' Now look here, isn't this just as 
big a sin, your standing here listening to the music, as 
it would be in your going to the theatre ?" 

I did not upset him, as I had expected to. He began 
to explain. He said, as a free-born American he had 
a right to go where he pleased, and the streets were 
all open to him ; if the soldiers chose to pla}^ there, of 
course he couldn't stop them, and he, being there, could 
not help hearing them, — " and besides, you see, this 
makes the great difference, — I don't have to pay any- 
thing." 

A fond mother brought her son, a lad of about six- 
teen, to the consulate, telling me they had just arrived 
and were going to stay some time, — '' Yery much de- 
lighted, I'm sure." The lady said she had selected 
Munich because she had heard that there was an art 
academy and also a conservatory of music there. I 
soon found out that the son was a prodigy, — the mother 
said so, and their friends in America said so. 



AN OBLIGING FRIEND. 395 

But the boy was too much of a prodigy : his talents 
were embarrassing. It appeared that he was a musical 
genius and an artistic genius at the same time. He 
was equally good at drawing with the pencil and draw- 
ing the bow, and a practical trial was to decide whether 
he should become a modern Titian or a second Pa- 
ganini. The lady thought she had hit upon a good 
plan : she was going to send her son for six months to 
the Academy and then for six months to the Conserv- 
atory, and then she would leave it to the professors 
themselves to determine (unless they all persisted in 
claiming him for their own) what path of art her son 
should henceforth devote his life to. I told her I 
thought the plan was a first-rate one. I believe I 
would have told her almost anything (after her having 
been sitting in my office for three-quarters of an hour) 
to induce her to take her departure, for she threatened 
to bring several portfolios of her son's drawings for 
me to look at. If I had been weak at that point, I 
know she would have come the third time with the 
fiddle. 

A young American, who had left his home in a very 
poor state of health, broke down at last under a dis- 
ease from which he had long been suffering. By his 
retired and somewhat peculiar manners, induced, no 
doubt, by his ailments, he had estranged himself from 
nearly all his fellow-countrymen. I had never been 
on very intimate terms with him ; but when he had 
taken to his bed I visited him, at his dull room, 
which was made still duller by being partially dark- 
ened, and by his having a large, dingy screen placed 
at the foot of his bed. The doctor had ordered ice 
to be applied to his head, and had also told him to 
suck small pieces of ice. It appeared his landlad}'' 
had a bungling way of chopping the ice for him 
which did not satisfy him, and one day ho murmured, 
" Oh, if I only had an American ice-pick. Don't they 
have such a thing in this country?" I hunted around 
the shops for such an instrument, but could not get the 
exact thing; but I got the next best thing to it, in the 



396 AN OBLIGING FRIEND. 

shape of a cobbler's awl with a flattened handle, which 
pleased him mightily when I brought it to him. 

He kept on getting worse, and at last it was neces- 
sary to remove him to the hospital, where a private 
room was procured for him. There was another young 
American at that time in Munich (as good-hearted a 
fellow as I ever met with, but a little eccentric in his 
manners) who nursed him devotedly. He cheered the 
dreary hours of the sick man with his company. 

Mr. A , who felt himself in a critical position, 

growing gradually worse, and lying in a hospital in a 
strange land, the language of which he had never been 
able to master, and attended to by persons to whom he 
could not express himself fluently, derived great com- 
fort from the companionship of his friend B , who 

did all in his power to console him in his affliction. I 
visited the patient a couple of times; but seeing that 

Mr. B was almost constantly with him, and that 

he had every attention it was possible to provide, I 
did not go there frequently. ^ 

The following conversation that took place between 
the sick man and his friend B I learned later. 

One day when the poor sufferer evidently felt that 
his end was drawing near, he faintly said to his friend, — 

" B , it is a hard thing to have to die in a foreign 

land, so far away from home, so far away from one's 
family." 

" Yes," returned B , weeping, " it is indeed hard ; 

but come, you musn't think of dying, my dear fellow, 
you'll get better, soon." 

" Oh, no," said A , faintly ; " I feel it rapidly com- 
ing on." 

The two friends mingled their tears; it was a sad, 
sad moment. After a pause, the dying man said, " It's 
not so much the thought of dying abroad that worries 
me as the thought of being buried in a foreign coun- 
try ; that one's body should not have its last resting- 
place in one's native soil ; to think that no loved ones 
will ever visit my grave." 

Another long pause. Poor B was quite over- 
come by the sadness of the situation ; in the goodness 



AN OBLIGING FRIEND. 397 

of his heart he would have done anything to bring a 
spark of comfort to his friend ; but, glancing at the 
hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, he felt instinctively 
that all would soon be over with him. He knew from 
what the doctors had told him that there was no hope 
of recovery. He sat at the side of the bed, his head 
bowed down, his eyes glistening with tears. He was 
pondering over what his friend had just said. The 
horror of having one's body buried so far away from 
home came up forcibly to his imagination. At last a 
bright thought struck him; he roused himself sud- 
denly and said, " I'll tell you what, A , even if you 

should die here, I can have your body embalmed and 
sent over to America, you know." 

"Oh, would you!" plaintively said the sufferer ; "I 
think I could die easier then. Thank you, my friend." 

That afternoon I happened to meet B , who was 

walking in great haste. He stopped on seeing me and 
eaid, abruptly, " Have you any idea how much it costs 
to embalm a body and have it sent to the States ?" 

" Good heavens !" I exclaimed, " is A dead ?'* 

"No," he replied, "but he can't last many days 
longer, and I want to find out beforehand how much it 

costs. I am going to Professor and to Professor 

to inquire about it; it will be such a comfort to 

poor A — — to know that I have attended to it.'* 

It at first appeared such a shocking thing to me, 
such a feelingless act for a man to be running around 
to dispose of his friend's remains before he was even 
dead ; but looking up into the earnest, honest face of 

B , I was convinced that he was acting from the 

most humane motives. He thought ho was really 
easing the mind of his friend by showing the interest 
ho took in carrying out his last desire. 

But after he had left me, sad as the situation was, I 
could not help thinking how ludicrous it was too. 
Here was a young man starting up from the sick-bed 
of his friend and rushing about with the greatest alac- 
rity to make arrangements with some medical man 
(perhaps bargaining with him in regard to the price) 
for scientifically preserving his friend, when there was 

84 



398 OUR CONSULAR SYSTEM, 

a chance of his still lingering on for many days yet, 
and then going and telling him all about it in the hope 
of raising his spirits. 

It was not long before the bitter hour came : he 
died peacefully. His body was not sent to America: 
it was buried at the Munich cemetery in the presence 
of most of the American gentlemen then in the city, 
and sincere indeed in his mourning for his lost friend 
was kind, devoted, simple-hearted B . 



CHAPTER XXY. 

Our consular system — Voting for Sheneral Shackson — To the victor be- 
long the spoils — Foreign opinion of our system — The office must be 
a necessity — Appointing applicants — Rush of office-seekers — Anec- 
dote of Hendricks — Public business suffers through consular changes — 
Changes abroad still more inconvenient — Reform not to go to the 
other extreme — Foreign bureaucracy — Public servants to be con- 
trolled — Becoming disamericanized — Supervising officers for consul- 
ates — Complaints against consuls — Investigating consulates — Exam- 
inations — Young men specially trained — Consuls must speak language 
of the country — Commercial men to be appointed — Ideas of what a 
consul has to do — The consular corps — Salaries — Payment not justly 
distributed — Furniture, cleaning, lighting, and heating — Pay to vice- 
consuls — Gentleman not satisfied with servant — Lady not satisfied 
with servant — Clerks — Consul should not be allowed to transact busi- 
ness — Is the consul satisfied with the Department ? — More intimate 
connection between the consul and the Department — Consular re- 
ports — Delegation of tailors — Fireproof material — Uncertainty of 
tenure of office — Consul often a figure-head — Finding nothing but 
vice-consuls — Sword of Damocles — Conclusion. 

EvERrTHiNQ must come to an end. Glancing up at 
the number of the page, I am warned that if I wish to 
retain any portion of the good-will of my readers I 
must draw to a close. 

The welcome finis is soon in view. 

There is only one stage more of our road, and that 
shall be given to a few general words in regard to 

OUE CONSULAE SYSTEM. 

It is a current joke, fanned into fresh circulation 
every four years, that in Pennsylvania, my own native 



ROTATION IN OFFICE. 399 

State, there are farmers known as the Pennsylvania 
Dutchmen who still vote for Sheneral Shackson. Why 
" Old Hickory" should retain such a hold on their 
affections I do not know. The man who in all mat- 
ters took the responsibility on himself also promul- 
gated the doctrine that to the victor belong the spoils. 
This doctrine has proved such a convenient one for 
those who make the victor (for they know that the 
victor, out of common gratitude, must pay handsomely 
those who elected him) that it has ever since been 
retained. 

In foreign countries, where every fat nest is feath- 
ered for life, and where every rickety, ink-bespattered 
desk of the lowest scribe holds the same snuffy occu- 
pant as long as he is willing to jog along the beaten 
track of jaded subordination, there is no one of our in- 
stitutions that is more frequently criticised than that 
of the everlasting routine of office, the injustice done 
to the office-holders, and the drawbacks to the proper 
discharge of the public business which must ensue 
thereby. Foreigners cannot understand how a man 
not properly schooled for the office can perform its du- 
ties, and this leads them to form but a wqvj poor esti- 
mate of the capabilities of our civil officers. In the 
old country every career is so measured and marked 
out, step by step, that it is considered indispensable for 
every one to have absolved the next preceding class 
before he is ripe to enter the next higher one. A man 
must be apprentice and journeyman before he can ex- 
pect to be a master. They think that every person 
with us who is jnmped into a public office must neces- 
sarily be an ignoramus in that branch. They do not 
make any allowance, for they do not comprehend the 
elasticity of the American character. They do not 
understand the quickness of grasp of the American 
mind ; they do not appreciate our versatility. 

But although I believe that no other nation would 
do as well as we under our present haphazard system, 
I do not wish to defend that system. I believe it is 
wrong in several points. There is no reason why wo 
should take the favorite view of the matter that public 



400 RUSH OF OFFICE-SEEKERS. 

offices exist merely for giving employment to our 
people. The office itself must be a necessity in the 
first place. Then we should strive to get the most 
honest, the most capable, the most energetic man to 
fill that office. If he fills it to the satisfaction of the 
government and the public it should matter little to 
any one what that man's politics may be, and we must 
assume that the longer that man remains in that office 
the better he will be qualified to perform its duties. 
A merchant does not car^y on business merely for the 
sake of giving employment to others, but when he 
wants help he tries to engage the best he can get for 
the salary he is willing to pay, and he retains that 
person as long as he can make use of his services. 
Why should our government take a different view of 
the matter? Again, when the President has the giving 
of over a hundred thousand offices, is it possible that 
he can have any personal knowledge of the character 
or capability of the one-thousandth part of the appli- 
cants ? He must take that at second or third or fourth 
hand. He must take the responsibility of the appoint- 
ment, and yet he has no knowledge of the antecedents 
of the applicant except what is told him by the politi- 
cian who recommends the applicant, and who does that 
as a favor to the latter because the latter has done a 
favor for him. The very word applicant has something 
unpleasantly suggestive about it. Why should there 
be such a clamoring howl for office every time a new 
administration comes in? Any one who has been in 
Washington during the first few months of a new 
President's incumbency knows the surging, greedy, 
inconsiderate multitude, the undisciplined army that 
beleaguer the quarters of the head of the nation, and 
steal away every hour of his time, as if he were there 
for no other purpose than for them to plunder. One 
might really suppose that the most important business 
of the Executive, and the only duty he had to perform, 
was that of weighing out offices to suit the deserts of 
each applicant. One might imagine the safety of the 
nation depended on the quickness of his selections. It 
is not only after the inauguration of the President that 



ANECDOTE OF HENDRICKS 401 

his trouble begins : he is beset by hordes of office- 
seekers from the moment he is elected, for every one 
wants to be j^r^^ with him. His private house, and his 
grounds, if he have any, are invaded by these ruthless 
cormorants. Each one is sustained by the hope that 
he may possibly get something. He knows that so 
and so many thousand offices are to be given away, 
and he takes his chance in the raffle, and he is ready 
to waste his time from week to week hanging around, 
and doing no good to himself or his family, or to any 
of his fellow- men, except to the bar-keepers of the capi- 
tal. But it is not only their own time that they waste, 
— which is not of so much importance, — but the time 
of thousands of others, — congressmen, senators, cabi- 
net ministers, and other officers, whom they importune 
with demands for the use of their influence. If the 
time thus frittered away at the capital for the first 
quarter of a year after the inauguration were given to 
useful labor, it would represent millions and millions 
of dollars. 

But what is the cause of this great army of scram- 
blers bearing down upon Washington every four years ? 
It is because it is well known throughout the broad 
expanse of our country that a thorough change is to 
be made in all the civil offices, — that men are to be 
turned out and fresh ones put in their places. It is a 
thing that is quite well understood by all parties. 

After the defeat of Mr. Tilden and Governor Hen- 
dricks, the latter made a trip to Europe. He was a very 
genial gentleman, and I spent some pleasant hours 
with him at Munich. Ho had some friends with him. 
When the conversation happened to turn on the elec- 
tion he jokingly said, '' Oh, well, the thing's over now ; 
at any rate, if I had been elected, you see, I wouldn't 
have the pleasure of being in Munich now and going 
around with you." *' No," I said, "and if you hud 
been elected I suppose I would not bo hero to bo show- 
ing you around." 

He gave vent to a political smile. 

Notwithstanding the natural gift Americans have of 
quickly adapting themselves to any situation, it cau- 



402 CONSULAR CHANGES. 

not be doubted that the public business suffers seriously 
from these continual displacements of the public offi- 
cers. The very smartest man has always something 
to learn in every new position, and although he may 
acquire a knowledge of his business rapidly, it is not 
acquired at once, and therefore there is a certain inter- 
ruption in the working of the office with the appear- 
ance of each fresh incumbent. Besides, the man hold- 
ing office, knowing he only has it for a few years, is not 
likely to take a very deep interest in it, except as to its 
receipts, and when the time approaches for his leaving 
it, he is already looking around for something to do 
next, and that takes up his attention principally. It 
is no wonder that his legacy to his successor is mostly 
a mass of unfinished business, and he turns over his 
office in a mess because he found it all in a mess when 
he took charge of it. 

But if these constant changes of office at home are 
attended with serious inconveniences, how much 
greater must they be abroad, where a man is suddenly 
surrounded by everything that is new to him. He 
goes to a country of w^hose history he knows scarcely 
anything, w^hose language he probably does not under- 
stand. Its manners and customs are strange to him ; 
the people are different to those with whom he has 
been brought into contact at home; the ways of doing 
business are different; the common observances of life 
are different. It takes him some time to get accus- 
tomed to his surroundings. It takes him some time to 
get settled. I have already tried to show how multi- 
farious the duties of a consul are. Mr. Frelinghuysen, 
in a report to the President, dated March 20, 1884, on 
the subject of the consular service, admits that " the 
duties of a consul are varied, and often very compli- 
cated and delicate, and nothing save long experience 
and careful study will enable the officer to properly 
and successfully discharge the important trusts com- 
mitted to his care." The man who takes a public 
office at home, even if he be not in the beginning posted 
as to its duties, is surrounded by friends and advisers, 
— many who have been in similar offices before, — with 



FOREIGN BUREAUCRACY, 403 

whom he can consult on any point which is not per- 
fectly clear to him. The consul is alone, separated 
from all his friends, and has to rely on himself in every 
step he takes. He has had some coaching, it is true, 
during the month he is supposed to be receiving in- 
structions, and the Consular Eegulations are put into 
his hand for his guidance, but when he arrives at his 
post he finds there are hundreds of subjects turning up 
that have not yet been expounded to him, and hun- 
dreds of questions arise which he looks for in vain to 
be answered in the neat, red-covered little book issued 
by the Department of State. There is much to learn 
before he can flatter himself with the thought that he 
is able to do everything as it ought to be done. It 
certainly takes him longer to work his way into a 
clear insight of the business than it would in any 
office at home. 

In making a reform in the tenure of office in our civil 
service, we would be going just as far wrong in the 
opposite direction in carrying it to the other extreme 
by creating a bureaucracy similar to that with which 
most old countries are cursed. Those men who consider 
themselves practically irremovable, soon degenerate into 
a race of unbearable snobs and petty tyrants. They 
have long ago forgotten that they are the servants of 
the people, and they treat the public with exasperating 
indifference. Their services are rendered (in such good 
time as they seem proper to do so) as if it were a favor 
they were conferring which must be humbly begged 
for. They are punctual in their routine work, but 
their routine work is very slow work, and is ordered 
by them with a view to their own convenience. Their 
motto is, — never to be in a hurry, and to let the public 
wait, wait, wait. The smallest government officer de- 
mands a show of deference to his station on the part of 
the supplicant for his services that would simply be 
laughable, if it were not that the failure to show the 
proper respect for him puts the power into his hands 
to revenge himself by thrusting all sorts of impedi- 
ments and petty annoyances in the way of those who 
show remissness on this point, lie can afford to bo 



404 PUBLIC SERVANTS. 

quite brutal towards the long-suffering public, for he 
knows that even if any one hardier than the rest 
should dare to make a complaint against him he would 
be sustained by his superiors, who themselves are 
hankering after a due display of respect to their dignity. 
If the matter were pressed, it would be explained to the 
unlucky informer that the reverence he is expected to 
show towards a public officer is not to the individual him- 
self, but to the symbol of the crown upon his cap or his 
buttons ; he is a man appointed by the government, and 
the government knows what it is about, and the gov- 
ernment's selection of its officers is not to be questioned 
by any person. Unless such an officer actually does 
something dishonest (by which the government suffers) 
he knows that he is safe, no matter how the public 
may grumble about his want of manners. The very 
discipline that debars each officer in succession from re- 
torting to any reproof he gets from the one next above 
him in station, leads him to vent his irritation on the 
public instead. When the infirmities of age come 
creeping on him, he still hobbles about his office as long 
as his shrunken shanks will carry him (and his trem- 
bling hands and his failing sight and his failing memory 
make things go still slower), and when he at last be- 
comes so decrepit that it is impossible for him to get to 
his bureau any more, he still receives a pension from 
the government for the rest of his days. 

We do not want such servants. What we want is 
that men should know that when they get appointed 
to a public office they can hold that office as long as 
they behave themselves properly, and as long as they 
are able to discharge its duties efficiently, but no longer. 
The government is spending the people's money, and 
the people have a right to demand that that money be 
applied to the best advantage. The government must 
have good work done for it, and for good work we 
must pay good wages. But there must be somebody 
to see that the work is done. Let all the public ser- 
vants be closely controlled, and if it be found that any 
one is remiss in any way, let him be removed and a 
better man put in his place. If a private person have 



BECOMING DISAMERICANIZED, 405 

an old and faithful servant, and rewards him when he is 
infirm and not able to do his work any more by still 
continuing his wages to him, such an act is very com- 
mendatory (he is doing with his own what he pleases), 
but the government, spending the people's money, has 
no right to pay that money without receiving an equiv- 
alent for it, and it is therefore proper not to pay pen- 
sions to retired officers ; these men have simply been 
doing their duty, and they should receive pay only 
Avhile they are doing it. The introduction of the pen- 
sion system would lead to great abuses in our country. 
If a man serves his country in an extraordinary way, 
let him be rewarded in an extraordinary way. The 
reward all civil officers would be satisfied with would 
be the prospect of promotion, and that would spur 
them on to do their utmost for the public good. 

With regard to consular officers, there is a deep- 
seated prejudice entertained by some of our best states- 
men and patriots against an American remaining too 
long away from his native countr3^ They contend 
that an American living for many years in a foreign 
country gradually gets tinged with the political and 
social peculiarities of that country ; that he loses 
somewhat in his republican views and affinities ; that 
he loses in a manner his adherence to the worship of 
American institutions ; that the ties which should 
always bind him to his native country become weak- 
ened ; in short, that he becomes disamericanized. 
There is some ground for holding such opinions, but 
the results presupposed are the exceptions and not the 
rule. 

It would be very easy for our government to have 
a permanent officer appointed for each great division 
of the earth, — a competent, experienced, and trust- 
worthy man, to visit the consulates to see that the 
business is properly conducted, and to return from 
time to time to the United States to have personal 
conference with the Sccretar}^ of State (and that would 
prevent him from becoming disamericanized). Such 
a person, in looking after the technicalities of the office, 
would have no difficulty in his intercourse with its oo- 



406 COMPLAINTS AGAINST CONSULS. 

ciipant in soon finding out the man "with soul so 
dead," and his instructions from headquarters might 
include the line, " If such there be, go mark him well.'* 
It might be urged that such a system would be a sort 
of espionage, distasteful to the American character, but 
it is not necessary that such a control should be any- 
thing more than w^hat every right-minded officer would 
be willing to submit to. On the contrary, it would often 
be a welcome occasion for the consul to explain certain 
matters in his own defence where unwarranted attacks 
are made against him. There is no officer that is so 
open to all kinds of mischievous charges being made 
against him as a consul. He has dealings with persons 
from every section of his own country, besides those 
with the foreign public and the foreign officers of the 
country he is in. He is expected to make everything 
right for all. The travelling American who comes to 
the office, and who perhaps spends only a few hours in 
the city he is in, and because he is in a hurry to get 
away, thinks the consul must, upon his appearance, lay 
aside every business he has in hand and attend to him 
at once. I have tried to give, already, an idea of the 
various demands made by all classes of people, both 
public and private, on the consul. If he had half a 
dozen pair of hands instead of one, he would, perhaps, 
be able to do better, and, as it is, woe betide him if he 
puts any of his clients to inconvenience. The arms are 
at hand : that person writes to the Department of State 
about the consul's want of consideration towards his 
fellow-countrymen. I was told by an officer in the 
consular bureau at Washington that the pigeon-holes 
in the State Department were bulging out with such 
complaints. As a general thing they are too trivial in 
character for the Department to take notice of; or, in 
the worst case, it writes to the consul in a mild way 
not "to do so again." But there are some cases 
in which a consul's character is attacked when he 
thinks the Department, without receiving any coun- 
ter-statement from himself, might be inclined to con- 
sider him in the wrong, but not having the opportu- 
nity nor the desire to trouble the Department with 



INVESTIGATING CONSULATES. 407 

the matter, he would be glad to have an intermediate 
officer who could form an impartial judgment of the 
case on the spot. Although the Department cannot 
investigate every charge made against a consul, yet in 
the aggregate, if a great number of them come to 
its notice, it naturally works to the prejudice of the 
latter. 

Our government has on several occasions sent out 
men to look after the consulates. Two or three of 
them visited my office. They were not very strict. 
One of them was a cheery little gentleman. I have 
an idea he was enjoying a summer's recreation abroad. 
He showed me his letters of introduction and his au- 
thority for his mission. He pulled out a copy of the 
^' Consular Eegulations." " Look here," he said, " have 

you made the alteration in paragraph on page , 

in regard to debenture certificates according to the cir- 
cular sent last month ?" I opened my copy of the 
"Consular Eegulations" to show him that I had done 
so. " Oh, well, then you're all right, I guess," and he 
then asked me what there was to see in the city. I 
offered to show him my books or anything else, but he 
said he didn't want to see them^ it wasn't necessary, 
— he wanted to see something of the town ; so after 
office hours he called for me again, and we went out 
walking together. 

In the report of Mr. Frelinghuysen, already alluded 
to, the permanency of a tenure of office in the consular 
service is s'trongly advocated. Those who take an in- 
terest in the subject will find in that paper many 
pertinent remarks and good suggestions, and also the 
Secretary's opinion of the personnel of the present 
consular corps. 

The proposition which has been made of late, that 
every applicant for a public office should bo made to 
pass an examination before a board created for that 
purpose before he can be accepted, is not, I think, a 
feasible one as applied to the consular service. The 
President who makes, and the Senate which confirms, an 
appointment should be satisfied, in the first j)hico, that 
the applicant (if we still have to use that term) is a 



408 QUALIFICATIONS FOR CONSULS. 

gentleman of good moral standing, and with a fair edu- 
cation. The man whom our country sends abroad 
should know something of his country^s history, and 
should be familiar with its political, social, and mer- 
cantile tenets. He should be a man conversant with 
the usages of trade and commerce, and he should un- 
derstand at least the rudiments of the common law of 
our land. He should be an active and a healthy man, 
for we do not want our foreign posts filled with in- 
valids. 

The suggestion that young men should be specially 
educated for the consular service, as is done in other 
countries, is not a good one. It would inevitably lead 
to the formation of a bureaucracy such as already al- 
luded to. Besides which, our government would be 
very much hampered in its disposition of such forces. 
We already have a limited number of consular clerks 
who are trained in the consular service, and the}^ are 
sufficient to fill any emergency that might arise through 
death or removal or inability of an officer to act. If 
the tenure of office is assured to those who are ap- 
pointed, the officers can learn as much at a ripe age as 
is necessary, and as well as those who have studied up 
the matter from their youth. 

One requisite, I think, is very important, — it is that 
every consul sent to a non-English speaking country 
should be able to speak and write the language of that 
country', — not only that he have a smattering of the 
language, but that he should know it well (some ex- 
ceptions of course may be made in the case of China, 
Japan, etc., the languages of which it is impossible to 
acquire beforehand in the United States). There are 
no positive instructions on this point, it is only mildly 
suggested somewhere that the consuls apply themselves 
to learning the language as soon as convenient. But a 
consul has his time fully occupied and has none of it to 
spare (if he attends to his business) for the study of 
languages, and besides, it is then too late for him to be- 
gin ; he wants that knowledge from the very start. On 
arriving at his post, the first persons he has to do with 
are not his own countrymen, but those of the place he 



LINGUISTIC ACQUIREMENTS, 409 

is in. He is expected to present himself to certain of 
the officials of the city, and to his colleagues from other 
countries. It is very humiliating for the individual to 
have to put his first question on such occasions, " Do you 
speak English, sir?" and if by chance the other party 
is not able to converse in English, to stand hemming 
and bowing there and making ungainly signs and awk- 
wardly getting himself out again without either party 
having had any satisfaction from the visit. It places 
our government in a very humiliating light too, for 
foreigners shrug their shoulders and think, *'Is this 
international courtesy, to send a person over to us in an 
official capacity and expect us to learn his language for 
the purpose of being able to communicate with him ?" 
They gauge a man's other qualifications by that of his 
linguistic shortcomings, and they wonder if we have 
so few educated men in the United States that we can- 
not aiford to send one who is able to talk not only in 
his own, but in at least one foreign language. Again, 
it is a risky thing to take the chance of a man's being 
able to learn a strange language. Some people have 
no talent that way, however intelligent they may be 
in other things. It is a good deal like the position of 
the man who was asked if he could play the fiddle, and 
answered that he didn't know, he had never tried it. 
I have known many consuls, very estimable men, who 
at the end of their four years' sojourn in a foreign coun- 
try knew as little of its language as they did of 
Esquimaux. 

In most non-Christian countries the consul has very 
varied and very extended powers; he acts in a judicial 
capacity, having to " adjudge the financial interests of 
Lis countrymen, and to try those accused of crimes, in 
some instances involving the extreme penalties of tho 
law." It is evident that at such posts it is necessary 
to send trained lawyers to act as consuls. But in all 
Christian and civilized countries, and especially in such 
where we have a diplomatic representative, tho princi- 
pal part of a consul's official work is of a mercantile 
character; for this reason it is essential that men who 
have had business experience should be sent abroad. 
s 35 



410 CONSULAR DUTIES. 

The notarial business which a consul is allowed to per- 
form is separate and distinct from his official duties ; 
the government is not responsible for any notarial acts 
of a consul, nor is he responsible to the government for 
them, and the government does not derive any profit 
from the fees received for such acts, and the consul is, 
moreover, warned that he shall only attend to such busi- 
ness when it can be done without interfering with his 
official duties, or without taking up time that should 
be devoted to his consular work. A consul, therefore, 
although he has daily opportunity of making himself 
useful to his fellow-countrymen abroad in drawing up 
papers and taking acknowledgments for them which 
it would be very inconvenient, in many cases impossi- 
ble, for them to obtain except through the agency of 
the consul, is not necessarily obliged to act as notary. 
If he chooses to do so he can, by the aid of good text- 
books and form-books, and by the experience which he 
gains in such matters, soon get sufficient knowledge to 
enable him to act intelligently in this respect. 

Everybody has some general idea of what a military 
man has to do, or what a naval officer or a postmaster 
or a judge or even a president has to do, but there are 
few who have any clear idea of what a consul's occu- 
pation is. It is mostly supposed that the post is a 
sinecure. Although it is well known that the pay is 
not great, yet it is believed that the office gives one 
certain social advantages, privileges, and distinctions, 
such as are highly prized by many people. We there- 
fore have among the army of applicants a great num- 
ber of educated and comparatively well-to-do men, 
who think that a few years' residence abroad will do 
them a great deal of good. Some wish to go for the 
benefit of their health; some are pursuing studies which 
would be facilitated thereby; some are amateurs in 
music or art and want to enjoy the galleries, the thea- 
tres, and the concerts; some want to go for the purpose 
of educating their children; some, because they want to 
be thrown into quite a fresh circle of acquaintances. 
The very fewest of all who apply have the principal 
object in their minds, that of serving their government. 



CONSULAR SALARIES. 411 

They honestly intend to do that, of course, but they 
think it can be done without much interfering with 
their other hobbies. They suppose there will be a 
great many papers to sign and letters to write, but 
they think it will not take up a great deal of their 
time, and that they can do it when it suits their own 
convenience. It is not due to our system of filling 
these offices, but to the enterprise, industry, and accom- 
modating spirit of the American character that the 
consular corps stands as high as it does. Whatever 
misconceptions a man may have previously had of the 
position he accepts, when he arrives at his post and 
finds that there is really work to be done and that he 
is obliged to do it himself, he does it. If, in years 
gone by, the consular corps was rather looked down 
upon as not just being formed of the best material of 
our country, yet at the present day I believe that all 
who know anything about it will concede that it com- 
pares favorably in capability and intelligence and re- 
spectability with any other branch of our civil or 
military or naval service. 

In regard to the much-mooted question touching the 
insufficiency of the salaries paid, I will not speak. It 
is generally contended that they are all too low. But 
our government acts on the principle that it can get 
plenty of able men — men with which it is satisfied — to 
take the offices at the present rates, and why, there- 
fore, should it volunteer to pay more? Taking all 
the consuls-general, consuls, and commercial agents to- 
gether, the average salary to each is about two thou- 
sand dollars per annum. All other countries pay their 
" consules missi" (that is, citizens of the country who 
are sent to foreign countries as consuls, and are sal- 
aried) much more. The average salaries of the British 
consuls may be put down as more than twice as much 
as ours. 

The principal cause for complaint would bo that the 
salaries are not duly proportioned according to the 
amount of labor there is to perform at each post. Con- 
gress has hitherto only had an 03-0 to the return of fees 
of the various consulates. Those that return the most 



412 CONSULAR SALARIES. 

fees to the treasury get the highest salaries. But 
taking all the consulates together, it will be found that 
ninety per cent, of all fees proceed from the authen- 
tication of invoices. At many places this is mere 
routine work requiring but little mental labor. Some 
consulates have scarcely any invoice work to do, and 
the fees they return are quite insignificant, yet there 
may be much business of other kinds to do, of a tedious 
and perplexing character, — business that calls for deep 
consideration, study, and investigation, — business that 
takes up much time and calls for much exertion on the 
part of the consul, and often requires great tact and 
delicate handling, — and yet, such consulates are the 
ones that are the most scantily paid. Some consulates 
are at very remote quarters of the world, — at towns 
which are not desirable as places of residence, far from 
any more civilized parts, where the consul feels as if he 
were an exile, and must often lead the life of a recluse 
also. Some posts are in countries the climate of which 
is quite dangerous for foreigners, and it certafnly re- 
quires some resolution of character for a man to go to 
such a place for small pay. On the other hand, there 
are many pleasant places of residence, particularly^ in 
Europe, gay cities, or towns situated among beautiful 
scenery, offering every advantage for recreation and 
amusement, which are proportionately much better 
paid. As the consul receives no compensation for 
travelling expenses either from his home to his post 
or from his post home again, and as he is instructed to 
take the quickest — that is, the dearest — means of get- 
ting to his post, it may, with a family, often cost him 
much over a thousand dollars to get to a place which, 
when he takes possession of it, brings him in less than 
that sum annually. Those consuls whose salary is over 
one thousand dollars are allowed a sum for office rent 
not exceeding twenty per cent, of their salaries. ThiSj 
generally, is enough to pay for the bare rooms, which, 
according to instructions, should be in a central and 
respectable part of the town. The office furniture con- 
sists mostly of a very plain desk, a book-rack, some 
boxes for invoices, and a fire-proof safe; but if the 



CONSULAR SALARIES. 413 

consul wants a chair to sit down on or a chair for any 
one else to sit on, he either has to buy or hire it. The 
cleaning, lighting, and heating of his office he has to 
pay out of his own pocket. Even the salary he is pro- 
mised is an illusion, for he only draws that so long as 
he is at his post. If he works for three hundred and 
sixty-five days a year, deducting the Sundays, he gets 
the whole of it, but if he takes a little holiday, he must 
pay for that out of his own pocket. If he goes away 
for a short time, he must pay the vice-consul for acting 
during his absence. He can make an arrangement 
with the latter as to the compensation he is to receive, 
but in whatever way the agreement is made, it gener- 
ally comes to about one-half the salary for the time the 
vice-consul acts as consul. If the consul absents him- 
self for a period longer than sixty days, as, for instance, 
on a visit to the United States, he is obliged to pay 
the vice-consul for every day over and beyond the 
sixty days his whole salary. The poorest clerk, if he 
is promised so and so much annually, and his employ- 
ers allow him a few weeks^ holiday, does not have his 
pay docked on that account. The representative in a 
foreign country labors under great disadvantages too, 
for being strange to the ways of the place, he pays 
more for every article than a native would do, and ho 
does not get the same return for his money as a citizen 
of the place with the same salary would. If, once 
settled, he is willing to live as the people there do, he 
can possibly manage to scratch along, but if he tries to 
live in the way he has been living at home, he finds 
that every deviation from the customs of the country 
is an extra and a luxury, for which he has to pay 
heavil}^ and out of all proportion to its value. 

As our consuls, notwithstanding the scanty means 
furnished them by the government, are proud to keep 
up a certain appearance of neatness and completeness 
in their offices and their dwellings, and as the United 
States is everywhere known to be such a rich country, 
the idea gains abroad that our consuls are rolling in 
wealth. I received several letters from parties ottering 
large tracts of houses for sale, because they thought it 

35* 



414 SALARY OF CLERK. 

would be a trifle for the consul to buy them and to 
erect "large business palaces in their place in the 
American style/' which would bring in good profits. 
A gentleman called one afternoon after business hours 
and wrote on the slate, which I always had hanging at 
the door, that he thought it would be advisable for the 
consul to keep a servant that could speak English, as 
the servant I had was of no kind of use to Americans 
coming to make inquiries. Yes, of course, — I ought to 
have imported an American black boy or an English 
flunkey in livery to satisfy that gentleman. A lady 
came, too, once, and couldn't get along much better with 
the servant. It was late in the afternoon, and I had 
some important writing to finish, and did not want to 
be disturbed, and had given orders not to admit any 
more visitors. But the lady couldn't understand the 
servant's apologies, — she was heard to say in anything 
but a winning voice, " Oh, shut up with your German ; 
I want somebody that speaks English," and giving the 
girl a stab with her parasol, she pushed past her to the 
ofiice door. The servant was quite frightened, — she 
thought the lady was going to make an assault on her. 
One man's ideas of a consulate was that it ought to 
have a cosey reading-room furnished with all the leading 
American journals, — paid for by the consul, of course. 

Another serious drain upon the nominal salary of the 
consul is the payment of a clerk, which in most cases 
has to be made out of his own pocket. Oat of over 
two hundred consulates only about fifty receive any 
sum for clerk hire. But there is scarcely a consulate 
where there is so little work as not to require the ser- 
vices of a clerk, unless the consul is willing to slave, 
and to attend to all business which is not strictly desk- 
business, outside of business hours. It can then be 
asked if the consul have any hours of recreation at all. 
He is obliged to keep his office open daily from ten to 
four o'clock, according to the statutes ; if there is any 
business to do outside of the office, he must attend to 
it before or after these hours. If he wants to get 
through with his daily work without neglecting any 



TRANSACTING BUSINESS, 4I5 

part of it, and if he wants to keep up any show of the 
respectability and importance which, certainly, a gov- 
ernment office in a foreign country ought to command, — 
unless he wants to be the personal prey of every street 
beggar and vagabond that chooses to enter the office, — 
he is obliged to take some one as an assistant. He 
needs such a person to do the routine work, to attend 
to parties who come on usual business, while the con- 
sul may be engaged with others on matters which only 
the consul, personally, can attend to. He, in most 
cases, cannot afford to pay much to such a person, but 
whatever he does pay goes out of his salary and helps 
to lessen it. 

Mr. Frelinghuysen says, " No consulate should be 
without a clerk to keep the office during the consul's 
absence, for in the performance of his duties the consul 
must be out of his office frequently. It is his duty to 
acquaint himself with the market value of the goods 
exported from his post ; to attend to Americans there 
present, and needing aid ; at seaports, to visit Ameri- 
can vessels, which, in many instances, lie at anchor 
several miles distant from the consulate, a single visit 
to such vessels often consuming the consul's time for an 
entire day; and, in short, to perform many duties 
which make it imperatively necessary that he should 
leave the consulate from time to time, and this during 
business hours, when some one should be present in the 
office." 

Mr. Frelinghuysen, in that very sensible paper, — his 
report of March 20, 1884, to the President, — puts the 
whole needs of a reform in the consular service in their 
true light. 

Of the many demands for charity thrust upon a con- 
sul every one can have an idea, — but I have adverted 
to such cases in the body of this book. 

The proposition sometimes made, that it would be 
well to allow every consul to carry on a private busi- 
ness in the country he is in, and that then it would not 
be necessary to pay the high (?) salaries now paid, is 
one that cannot bo taken into serious consideration. 
If a man attends to the duties of the consulate ho has 



416 CONSULAR REPORTS. 

no time to attend to any business of his own, and if, as 
a merchant, he expects to make any money, he would 
not have time to attend to the consulate, — it is the old 
proof of the old dictum that a man cannot serve two 
masters. 

The Department of State has on several occasions 
expressed its satisfaction with the services of the con- 
sular corps, but the consuls, of course, never have an 
opportunity of expressing in how far they are satisfied 
with the Department. If there is any cause for com- 
plaint, the only satisfaction one has is the negative one 
of the reflection of children who think they are not 
rightly treated by their progenitors, — that one ought 
to have been more careful in the choice of one's parents. 
The Department is very fatherly in its relations to- 
wards the consuls ; it would like to do them a favor 
i»ow and then, but it is very strict, and always has 
Congress at its back to prevent any spoiling of its chil- 
dren. The Department is the Mr. Spenlow of the 
firm, but Congress is, in reality, the terrible Mr. Jorkins. 
I can only say, from my own experience, that every 
reasonable request made to the Department is, if the 
Department have the power of doing so, granted. 

Many suggestions could be made, no doubt, for the 
more intimate connection between the Department and 
its consuls, and, indeed, consuls have been invited to 
make such suggestions, and the Department, if con- 
vinced of their usefulness, has acted upon them to the 
extent of its power. It is verj'- certain that never be- 
fore has the Department taken such a lively interest in 
the whole working of the consular system as within 
the last ten years, — since the incumbency of Mr.Bvarts, 
in fact, as Secretary of State. To that gentleman are 
due many of the reforms in the service over which he 
liad direct control. He gave the consuls a stirring up, 
but it was good for them. He prevented their going 
to sleep, and they are now obliged to give signs that 
they are awake at all times in the form of the frequent 
consular reports, which are in turn given to the public. 
However much some people have tried to ridicule these 
reports, — and others have earnestly argued that they 



CONSULAR REPORTS, 417 

are of no value whatever, — yet I think the majority of 
those who read them acknowledge their usefulness. 
There are, of course, many places from which a consul 
cannot communicate anything that is new, and if forced 
to write by the fatherly commands of the Department, 
he can only reiterate what has already been said, and 
turn up the old dust on roads that are being constantly 
travelled. Yet if any one will take the trouble to com- 
pare the generality of these reports with those made 
some fifteen or twenty years back, he will find in many 
respects great improvements. In former years the De- 
partment did not trouble itself much about the consuls 
and the consuls did not trouble themselves much about 
the Department. I know that in one instance the De- 
partment wrote to a certain consul that no communi- 
cation had been received from him for over two years, 
and it urged him to let the Department know some- 
thing of what he was doing. 

That the consul may not be at a loss for a subject to 
write upon, the Department now considerately helps 
him along by frequently asking for special information, 
which makes the literary labors very varied. In its 
endeavors to do good to the public the Department 
takes up the consideration of every theme that the 
public wishes to be enlightened on. If anybody wants 
to know anything about a foreign country, all he has 
to do is to go to the State Department and communi- 
cate his wishes, and the Department sends out a circu- 
lar for the consuls to give the desired information. 
But there is some danger of this convenient sj'Stem 
being carried too far. In 1884 a delegation of tailors 
called on the Secretary of State and asked for intelli- 
gence through the instrumentality of the consuls in all 
quarters of the globe on certain points, — as to whether, 
in the consul's district, there are any schools where 
boys can learn the tailors' trade ; by what laws they 
are governed, and whether the system is a success, etc., 
etc., — and the Department launched out its cireulara 
accordingly. If that sort of thing goes on wo shall 
soon be called upon to inquire into the workings of 
street-cleaners and chimney-sweeps, and tluit much 
hb 27 



418 UNCERTAINTY OF TENURE OF OFFICE. 

vexed question as to what kind of soap the latter gen- 
tlemen find most effective in scouring their counte- 
nances after the termination of their day's labor. 

Before this organized inquisitiveness was introduced 
on the present extended scale, I sometimes thought the 
Department showed apathy in regard to subjects which 
ought to interest it. I remember being once invited 
to witness some experiments made with a certain new 
material for rendering wood, paper, woven stuffs, — in 
fact, all kinds of materials, — incombustible. The arti- 
cles were impregnated or coated with the newly-found 
mixture, and trials were made at the bronze-foundry 
and at the theatre with them. The flames raged 
around, over, under, and through them, and yet they 
would not catch the fire, nor were they consumed. I 
thought at least the thing had merit, and, considering 
the great number of conflagrations we have at home, 
that it ought to have interest for our people. I there- 
fore wrote to the Department about what I had wit- 
nessed, and in fact was doing nothing more than ful- 
filling a duty thereby, for we are instructed to notify 
the Department of any new inventions that might be 
of advantage to our country. To my very warm de- 
scription of the fiery ordeal I had witnessed came the 
rather cool reply that " Dispatch No. so and so has 
been received.'' 

About a year afterwards the fire broke out in the 
Patent Office, destroying thousands of models of pat- 
ented inventions, records, and a great part of the build- 
ing itself, which it has taken years and years to re- 
pair. 

To come again to the starting-point of this chapter, 
— the present uncertainty of the tenure of office, — there 
is still a word to say which I neglected putting in its 
right place. 

Through resignations, removals, and other causes 
vacancies arise during the middle or towards the close 
of an administration. New appointments are at once 
made, and plenty of men are found eager to fill the va- 
cancies. They know that in all human probability 



THE ''SWORD OF DAMOCLES,'' 419 

they will only be able to keep the office for a year or 
two, or even for a few months only, and that when the 
new President comes in they must again give place to 
another man. They must be men of some means or 
they would not be willing to pay the expense of the 
journey out and back again ; they therefore look at 
the appointment in the light of a pleasant excursion, 
and for the short time they have before them they 
think it is hardly worth while to take very serious 
hold of the work. They find a vice-consul at the post, 
a native of the place (for the fewest of our vice-consuls 
are Americans), who has probably been in the same 
position under several of his predecessors, and who, 
therefore, knows the ropes. Such men, who have the 
means to compensate a vice-consul, too often degener- 
ate into mere figure-heads. They sign their name at 
the bottom of printed forms and other papers, and the 
office is run by the vice-consul and the clerk, if there 
is one. They travel a good deal, I am told, at least if 
I am to take the authority of a lady who once came to 
the office when I happened to be away myself. She 
had important business, of course, and wanted to see 
the consul personally. The vice-consul told her the 
consul was out of town, but that he could attend to 
what she wanted. She rather took all the dignity out 
of him by exclaiming, impatiently, " Oh, pshaw ! wher- 
ever I go I find nothing but vice-consuls. I would 
like once to see a real consul." Her wish could not be 
gratified on the spur of the moment. But that night 
she was taken suddenly ill, and she was glad enough 
to send round to the vice-consul's house to come to her 
immediately. It was a sort of retribution, I suppose, 
that she had to accept his services in running for a 
doctor for her. 

I commenced this book with a quotation from an 
article written by a consul many years ago, and I close 
it by referring to an impassioned remark of a col- 
league, who, in expatiating on the utter uncertainty of 
his position, said it was like the "sword of Damocles** 
hanging over him. The lease of his residence was out, 



420 CONCLUSION, 

and he had to move ; but would it pay to go to the ex- 
pense of taking other lodgings, if only for six months, 
when he knew that the President was making many 
new appointments ? By the time he got his furniture 
snugly ensconced in his new abode, the knell might come 
that he must give place to another man ; he could not 
tell when his turn might come ; no kind of a hint is 
given of it beforehand ; he does not know what plans 
to make. To add to the tantalizing predicament, he is 
still buoyed up with the faint hope that perhaps he 
may escape the general dethronement. 

And that man's position is the position of almost all. 

No matter how well a man has performed the duties 
of the office ; no matter how well qualified he may be 
for the position ; no matter how well satisfied the State 
Department may be with him ; no matter how highly 
he may be esteemed by the community among which 
he has been sojourning, — without any cause, without 
any reason being given, without a word of recognition 
of his services, any day, any hour, at any period of his 
career, — the postman may bring to his hand the fatal 
missive : 

*^SiR, — The President having appointed Mr. , 

of , consul of the United States for , I will 

thank you to deliver to him the records and archives 
of the office, the seal, press, flag, and arms, together 
with the Revised Statutes, the Statutes at Large, 
Wheaton's Digest, and all other books and property in 
your possession belonging to the United States. 

" I am, sir, etc.*** 

Sic transit gloria Consulum, 

* I was fortunate enough not to get such a summons. It having been 
my intention to leave the city I was in and the consular service also, I 
sent in my resignation just before the inauguration of President Cleve- 
land, and turned over the office to the vice-consul. 

Nuremberg, March 28, 1885. 

THE END. 



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